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The  Destiny  of  Doris 


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FROM   A   PHOTOGRAPH    BY 
DAVIS   &  SANFORD 


The   Destiny  of  Doris 

A    Travel -Story  of  Three  Continents 

By 
JULIUS     CHAMBERS 

Illustrated 


I  yo  I 

CONTINENTAL    J>UHLISHING    CO, 

24  Murray  Street,  New  York 


Copyright,   1901,  by 
Continental  Publishing  Co. 

« 

THE    PEQUOD    PRESS 
NEW  YORK 


DSft 


Contents 

Chapter  Page 

I.  Reversing  a  Rule 9 

II.  Flying  the  Blue  Hawk 21 

III.  The  "Gib"  and  the  "Med." 29 

IV.  A  Reawakened  People 37 

\\  The  Arai!  at  His  Best 44 

\l.  The  Arab  in  His  Wane 63 

VH.  True  to  Prophecy 78 

VIII.  A  False  Oracle 93 

IX.  Disappointments  of  a  Mummy no 

X.  Master  of  His  Fate 125 

XI.  On  the  Sacred  Isle 148 

XII.  In  a  Temple  Bazaar 159 

XIII.  Under  the  Southern  Cross 174 

XIW  Under  the  Holy  Cross 193 

XV.  La  Bella  Nai-oli 215 

XVI.  Ambition  Dead  and  Buried 231 

XVII.  Our  Debt  to  Paganism 244 

XVIII.  A  City  ok  Palaces 261 

XIX.  The  World  of  Chance 274 

XX.  Home  of  the  Lombard  Kings 291 

XXI.  The  Winged  Lion 303 

XXII.  Older  than  Rome 313 

XXIII.  A  Quatrain  of  Destiny 324 


aii.QXQ 


PONTA   DELGADA,    THE    PRETTY   CAPITAL   OF   ST.    MICHAEL 


Chapter  One 


Reversing  a  Rule 


ST.  MICHAEL,    prettiest    of    the    Azores    group, 
lay  half  a  mile  away ;   and  though  but  a   dot 
of    green    amid    the    ocean    blue,  this  volcanic 
isle   made  glad  my  heart   as   if  it  had  been  a 
continent,  harboring  a  hundred  cities. 

I  was  leaving  sullen  January  skies  at  New  York,  for 
the  sun-lands  of  the  Mediterranean.  The  voyage  had 
begun  auspiciously :  for  I  had  found  on  board  ship  a 
friend  long  lost  to  me.  ( )ur  surprise  was  mutual.  We 
had  parted  in  anger ;  but  time  had  weakened  my  resent- 
ment, and  widowhood  had  lessened  her  indifference. 
The  formalities  of  reviving  a  dead  friendship  had  been 
soon  overcome,  and  Mrs.  Wentworth  and  I  had  passed 
many  hours  together  on  deck. 

We  Jiad  known  each  other  since  the  early  seventies : 
our  parents  had  been  neighbors  on  Murray  Hill,  our 
fathers   fast   friends.     A   conunon   danger  in   trade  had 

9 


lo  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

cemented  a  brotherhood  between  them  hke  that  of  Athos 
and  Porthos.  Their  Sunday  mornings  had  been  passed 
together ;  while  our  mothers  attended  church,  they 
smoked  each  other's  cigars,  and  drank  each  other's  whis- 
key. Alas !  they  went  to  the  same  heaven,  I  hope ;  for 
two  truer  rhen  of  their  time  and  generation  never  lived. 

Louise  Post  had  been  the  only  girl  among  my  acquaint- 
ances who  had  preferred  to  take  a  husband  from  the 
foreign  nobility  rather  than  to  marry  a  fellow-country- 
man ;  and  her  decision  had  fallen  heavily  upon  me.  Af- 
ter twenty  years  in  England,  as  the  wife  of  Lord  John 
Wentworth,  youngest  son  of  the  Duke  of  Gaster,  she 
had  returned  to  her  native  land — four  years  prior  to  this 
unexpected  meeting — a  widow,  with  a  daughter  of  six- 
teen. 

Louise's  father  left  several  millions ;  mine  a  member- 
ship in  the  Stock  Exchange.  As  his  only  heir,  I  bid 
in  the  seat,  secured  an  election,  took  a  capitalist  for  part- 
ner, and,  in  a  few  years,  grew  rich.  All  my  thoughts 
had  been  devoted  to  money-making.  I  had  had  no  time 
or  inclination  to  attempt  a  second  wooing. 

That  Mrs.  "Jack"  Wentworth,  as  she  was  generally 
known  (contrary  to  conventionality),  was  still  beautiful 
did  not  admit  of  dispute ;  and  never  were  her  charms 
more  emphasized  than  when  the  tall,  young  girl,  Doris, 
stood  beside  her.  Mature  beauty  did  not  suffer  by  com- 
parison with  that  of  youth. 

Only  this  morning  had  Mrs.  Wentworth  become  con- 
fidential, as  we  sat  on  deck. 

"There  is  no  mystery  in  the  Wentworth  family,"  she 
began.     "After  I  married  Jack  and  went  to  England, 


HORTA.  ON  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAYAL,  WHICH 
IS  IN  CLOSE  COMMERCIAL  TOUCH  WITH  NEW 
YORK,   BY  CABLE  AND  STEAMER 


12  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

I  liked  the  title  of  Xady  John,'  I  was  flattered  by  the 
social  prestige  of  his  family  name, — little  realizing  how 
small  a  factor  I  was  in  its  future.  I  never  could  be- 
come reconciled  to  the  law  of  primogeniture !  Jack's 
blue  blood  was  his  chief  earthly  possession.  The  fam- 
ily was  very  noble,  but  deplorably  poor.  We — rather 
I — bought  an  old  country-seat,  much  gone  to  decay,  upon 
which  I  spent  most  of  my  heritage.  Myerling  Hall  was 
ancient  as  the  Norman  domination,  and,  possessing  the 
prettiest  site  in  Kent,  we  transformed  it  into  one  of  the 
most  attractive  country  homes  in  England, — not  preten- 
tious, you  understand,  but  vast,  roomy,  and  comfortable. 
Dear  Jack  had  considerable  taste,  and  he  spent  our  money 
to  advantage ;  but  during  those  twenty  years  my  personal 
income  maintained  the  family  home." 

Her  words  recalled  facts  far  from  comforting  to  me, 
but  I  listened  in  silence. 

"One  morning  poor  Jack  was  killed  on  the  hunting 
field,"  continued  the  beautiful  woman  at  my  side,  "and 
I  found  myself  alone  in  this  world,  with  Doris.  When 
T  say  'alone,'  the  word  never  was  better  used.  After 
the  funeral,  I  was  made  to  feel  that  I  wasn't  of  the  slight- 
est consequence  to  the  Wentworth  family.  I  saved  the 
Hall  only  because  it  was  mine !" 

How  different  this  woman  from  the  girl  who  had  made 
me  so  wretchedly  unhappy!  But  she  was  more  com- 
panionable than  in  the  past.  Our  positions  in  life  were 
reversed — while  she  had  been  dissipating  her  fortune  I 
had  earned  one. 

"Doris  was  as  keenly  conscious  of  our  changed  posi- 
tion as  I,"  continued  Mrs.  Wentworth,  "though  she  gave 


Reversing  a  Rule 


13 


no  verbal  sign.  I  knew  that  in  her  Ufe  and  mine  a 
crisis  of  the  gravest  character  had  been  reached ;  but  I 
dehberated  long  and  seriously." 

"She   who  hesitates — "   I   began,   merely   to   tind   my 


voice. 


" — is    generally    saved."    my    companion    interjected. 
"I  haven't  any  sympathy  with  the  phrase-maker  who'd 


First  Sight  of  Land  in  the  Azores,  Showing  Feleira 

sacrifice  a  fact  for  the  sake  of  an  epigram.  Rut,  seri- 
ously, I  saw  that  Doris'  position  was  more  unfortunate 
than  mine.  1  had  bought  twenty  years  of  self-adulation, 
which,  after  all,  is  worth  a  ])rice!  In  so  doing.  I  had 
impoverished  my  child.     P.y  her  father's  death,  she  was 


1 4  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

crowded  out  of  the  place  that  would  have  been  hers 
and  mine ;  and  I  had  squandered  the  money  that  alone 
could  have  rehabilitated  her  social  position.  Without 
w^ealth,  England  had  no  future  for  her !  Only  too 
well  did  I  know  the  high  esteem  in  which  impoverished 
noblemen  held  American  heiresses !  Among  my  ac- 
quaintances were  many  splendid  English  girls  of  good 
blood  and  superior  education,  wholly  overlooked  by 
the  sons  of  noble  families  in  their  search  for  American 
money." 

"And  you  decided  to  transplant  your  family  tree?" 
"Exactly !  I  vowed  to  reverse  the  existing  order  of 
things  and  to  find  for  this  English  girl  an  American 
husband !  The  old  Hall  was  let  to  an  expatriated  Rus- 
sian prince,  seeking  a  respite  from  the  surveillance  of  the 
secret  police.  I  disposed  of  my  personal  property  and 
dropped  the  complimentary  title  of  Xady.'  We  returned 
to  the  home  of  my  girlhood,  where  I  didn't  require  let- 
ters of  introduction,  but  only  had  to  renew  the  acquain- 
tances of  my  family  to  secure  prompt  social  recogni- 
tion. My  position  in  New  York  was  infinitely  more 
satisfactory  than  clinging  to  the  skirts  of  an  efifete  aris- 
tocracy in  London  and  relying  upon  the  fast-waning 
memory  of  a  dead  husband  for  my  status.  The  disci- 
pline of  experience  falls  more  heavily  on  woman  than 
man," — Mrs.  Wentworth  was  saying,  when  the  Azores 
had  suddenly  appeared  out  of  the  haze. 

She  didn't  have  to  tell  me  the  rest  of  this  tale  of  a 
pretty  woman's  disillusionment.  And,  though  we  had 
not  met  up  to  this  time,  I  knew  Mrs.  Wentworth  had 
taken  a  small  but  comfortable  house  in  the  ultra-fash- 


MRS.  WENTWORTH,  DORIS,  AND  MR.  NORTH, 
ON  DECK,  PLANNING  THEIR  TRIP  THROUGH 
THE   MEDITERRANEAN 


1 6  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

ionable  section  of  New  York,  just  ofif  Fifth 
Avenue.  At  the  expiration  of  her  year  of 
mourning, — carefully  utilized  in  adding  to  her 
daughter's  education, — Mrs.  Wentworth  gave  a  few 
small  dinners  to  which  old  and  new  friends  were  asked. 
The  second  winter,  she  and  Mrs.  Piney-Woods  occupied 
a  box  at  the  opera  on  alternate  nights.  Doris  went  only 
once,  during  her  Christmas  vacation.  The  following 
summer  the  girl  had  her  first  look  at  Newport,  Bar 
Harbor,  and  Lenox ;  but  her  bow  to  society  occurred  that 
winter  at  a  dinner-dance  given  by  Mrs.  Piney-Woods 
to  her  own  daughter.  There  Doris  met  and  took  mental 
account  of  her  young  associates, — girls,  I  fancy,  for  she 
hadn't  begun  seriously  to  study  men. 

A  girl  is  never  too  young  to  form  opinions  of  her  own 
sex,  nor  to  express  them ! 

The  year  that  followed,  Doris  gave  to  her  books. 
Many  good  schools  for  girls  exist  in  the  United  States ; 
but  the  one  she  attended  has  no  rival  in  what  it  accom- 
plishes for  the  physical  and  mental  development  of  wom- 
en. Her  mother  had  studied  in  a  different  school.  She 
had  married  Lord  John  with  the  hope  of  "blazing  out"  a 
political  path  for  her  husband.  In  those  days  she  be- 
lieved that  under  the  magic  of  her  inspiration  he  could 
attain  any  height — even  the  Prime  Minister's  bench — ; 
and  she  abandoned  her  hopes  only  when  she  found  that 
Lord  John  had  no  head  for  politics,  or  for  anything  be- 
yond a  horse  and  a  good  dinner.  From  that  hour  the 
ambition  of  the  American  wife  grudgingly  yielded  to  the 
lamentable  indifference  and  mental  sluggishness  of  her 
husband.  Knowing  the  woman  well,  I  understood  her 
disenchantment. 


AZOREAN  WOMEN  DRAWING  WATER  FROM 
WELL  IN  PUBLIC  SQUARE;  THE  WALLS  ARE 
MADE  OF  LAVA-CONCRETE 


1 8  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

"Has  your  daughter  begun  her  social  career?"  I  ven- 
tured to  ask,  when  the  silence  lengthened. 

"During  last  winter  I  quietly  recalled  Doris  from 
school,  that  she  might  attend  her  first  public  ball, — the 
Patriarchs'.  1  venture  nothing  in  declaring  that  her 
rugged  beauty  and  charming  manners  scored  a  triumph. 
Next  day  she  was  the  most  talked-of  girl  in  New 
York.  A  rivalry  developed  between  several  of  my 
friends  who  hadn't  daughters  to  exploit,  to  entertain  the 
Anglo-American  debutante.  I  accepted  as  her  patroness 
the  most  dashing  young  matron  in  the  metropolis — one 
whose  beauty  was  so  generally  conceded  that  she'd 
never  contemplate  jealousy  of  Doris.  Best  of  all,  this 
choice  gave  no  ofifence  to  the  elder  matrons." 

What  a  study  she  was !  Perhaps  I  was  looking  into 
her  heart ;  but  I  wasn't  sure.  A  clever  woman  at  forty 
is  always  a  delight.  What  this  one  had  described  to  me 
as  "the  discipline  of  experience"  makes  her  tactful  as 
the  wiliest  diplomatist.  Instinctively,  she  is  distrusted  by 
a  man  of  the  world. 

What  I  hadn't  divined,  Louise  W^entworth  had  vol- 
untarily told  me.  In  vain  I  tried  to  solve  the  mystery 
of  her  sudden  departure  for  Europe.  As  we  rose  and 
walked  to  the  side  of  the  ship,  I  looked  into  her  face, 
and  asked, 

"What  takes  you  abroad?"  Then  I  hesitated  between 
apology  and  the  further  impudence  of  pressing  the  ques- 
tion. 

"The  Czar!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Wentworth,  with  a  show 
of  mystery,  accompanied  by  a  laugh  that  dispelled  all 
fear  of  having  given  offence.     "His   Imperial   Majesty 


Reversing  a  Rule 


19 


pardoned  Prince  Wanofitski ;  the  latter  gave  up  his  lease 
of  Myerling  Hall,  and  the  income  from  that  source  sud- 
denly vanished.  It  is  more  economical  to  travel  than 
to  remain  in  New  York  and  keep  open  house,  and  this 
is  a  cheerful  life  in  which  we  are  awakened  by  music 
and  called  to  meals  by  bugle." 


^^0^^ 


Lahuimu  Place  at  Ponia  Delgada 

"Aliss  W'cntworth  was  glad  to  return  abroad,  T  su]-)- 

pose  ?" 

"Yes;  and,  again,  no,"  was  the  reply.  "There  was  a 
man  in  the  case,  you  see.  Doris  didn't  tell  me  that,  in 
so  many  words ;  but  I  have  eyes.  When  there's  a  man, 
be  wary!  And  yet,  the  way  to  know  if  a  man  cares  for 
a  girl  is  to  take  her  away  from  him.  If  he  be  in  ear- 
nest, we  shall  hear  from  him.     Don't  you  think  so?" 


20  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

Whatever  I  may  have  intended  to  say  was  lost  for 
want  of  opportunity  to  express  it. 

Never  had  Louise  Wentworth  looked  so  charming-  as 
when   standing   with   me   by   the   davits   of   the   cutter, 
wholly  given  up  to  the  new  excitement  roused  by  the 
^  "Flying  Islanders"  of  to-day. 


AZOREAN    WOMEN    ON    THE   STREET    IN    THEIR    CAPOTES 


Flying  the  Blue  Hawk 


Chapter  Tiuo 


DORIS  WEXTWORTH,  glass  In  hand,  was 
surveying  the  beautiful  landscape  before  her. 
She  was  a  picture  of  the  best  type  of  mod- 
ern woman.  Snug  as  a  sailor  lad,  in  a 
dark-blue  yachting  suit,  the  outdoor  life  she  had  led 
was  reflected  in  every  feature  of  her  ruddy  face.  Her 
lips  were  full  and  ripe,  her  eyes  lustrous  brov/n,  and  a 
wealth  of  golden  hair  crowned  her  head.  She  was  as 
])retty  as  I  had  thought  her  mother  at  her  age.  While 
I  watched  her,  she  was  using  the  binoculars  like  a  navi- 
gating officer,  and,  when  I  stepped  to  her  side,  she  said 
with  the  vivacity  of  girlhood, 

"Surf  is  breaking  on  a  pretty,  white  beach,  at  the 
base  of  a  cliff— the  only  bit  of  sand  in  sight.  Nearby 
are  the  huts  of  fisher-folk,  their  bright  green  boats  drawn 
far  out  the  water." 

A  picture  of  entrancing  beauty  lay  before  us!     The 

21 


22  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

precipitous  shore  resembled  the  Palisades  of  our  be- 
loved Hudson.  On  a  high  plateau,  amid  an  exuberant 
wealth  of  Nature's  green,  lying  between  the  cliff's  edge 
and  the  bases  of  towering  mountains  behind,  were 
houses  of  pink  and  white. 

Resplendent  verdure  everywhere  effaced  all  memory 
of  leafless  trees  we  had  left  at  home.  Windmills  swung 
their  arms  as  if  in  welcome.  So  close  came  we  to  shore 
that  the  Azoreans  were  seen  moving  about  the  village 
streets,  watching  the  strangers  from  across  the  sea. 

Feleira,  a  wee  hamlet,  clung  like  a  pink  and  white 
acaleph  to  the  verge  of  the  precipice.  What  uncon- 
scious use  of  color !  The  greens,  browns,  and  blues  were 
supplied  by  Nature;  the  Azoreans  affected  only  the 
brighter  shades  in  dress  and  household  decorations. 
Every  garden  was  a  flower-bed. 

Doris  had  traveled  much,  but  this  part  of  the  globe 
was  new.  What  she  saw  only  heightened  anticipations 
of  Spain,  Morocco,  Italy,  Egypt,  and  Palestine. 

Ponta  Delgada  nestled  in  a  cove  under  the  shadow  of 
mountains  a  mile  high. 

"I  suppose  the  arrival  of  a  ship  is  a  sensational  event 
in  the  Azores,"  suggested  Doris  to  Philip  Norton,  a 
fellow-passenger  who  had  lived  among' the  Islanders. 

"The  Azoreans  are  like  children  who  never  tire  of 
watching  the  sea,"  was  his  reply.  "They  will  drop  their 
work  or  leave  their  churches  to  see  a  passing  ship. 
Merchants  close  their  shops,  grocers  cease  weighing 
sugar  or  counting  eggs,  and  the  routine  of  barter  and 
sale  stops.  Sometimes  a  bell  is  rung  at  the  town-hall. 
But   I    found   life   in   this    city    quite    enjoyable.     The 


BOTANICAL  GARDEN  AT  ST.  MICHAEL,  WHERE 
THE  AZOREANS  FIND  SHELTER  DURING  THE 
HEAT  OF  THE  AFTERNOON 


24  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

Azoreans  are  not  pirates,  but  they  capture  many  a  stray 
ship  on  its  way  to  the  Sargasso  Sea.  This  is  the  near- 
est port  to  that  mysterious  region." 

"A  sea  in  the  mid-Atlantic!"  exclaimed  Doris. 

"Just  as  there  is  'a  river  in  the  ocean,'  "  rejoined  Mr. 
Norton.  "I  came  out  here  to  gather  salvage  from  that 
fairy-kral  where  all  lost  or  forgotten  ships  are  'rounded 
up.'  We  hunted  derelicts  like  game ;  for,  by  the  law  of 
the  sea,  abandoned  craft  or  cargo  belongs  to  the  finder!" 

"Where  is  this  harbor  of  missing  ships?"  asked  Airs. 
Wentworth,  turning  incredulously  to  me. 

It  was  a  happy  moment,  because  this  was  a  subject  on 
which  I  was  quite  informed.  For  many  years  this  un- 
explored expanse  of  calms,  large  in  area  as  the  State 
of  Texas,  had  been  my  study.  I  had  organized  and 
financed  the  syndicate  that  had  sent  Mr,  Norton  on  his 
highly  profitable  voyage. 

"The  Sargasso  Sea  is  the  mid-Atlantic  sw^irl,  south 
of  the  Azores,"  I  replied  with  confidence.  "It  is  formed 
by  the  Gulf  Stream  moving  eastward  along  its  northern 
border  and  tlie  African  equatorial  current  surging  west- 
ward along  its  southern  edge.  What  did  you  find,  Mr. 
Norton  ?" 

"Plenty  of  salvage,"  said  he.  "We  returned  laden 
with  ships'  chronometers,  silver-ware,  and  other  valu- 
ables. The  winter's  work  realized  a  net  profit  of  more 
than  one  hundred  thovisand  dollars." 

"What  a  weirdly  interesting  place !"  commented  Doris. 

"So  it  proved  to  be :  in  every  grassy  lane  was  a  ro- 
mance, in  every  reedy  cove  a  tragedy,  and  in  every  float- 
ing hulk  a  secret  of  the  sea." 


THE  OCEAN  PALACE.  UPON 
WHICH  OLD  FRIENDSHIPS 
ARE  RENEWED 


26  The  Destiny  of   Doris 

"How  many  abandoned  ships  did  you  find?"  was  the 
next  question. 

"Less  than  two  hundred ;  but  the  Chief  of  the  Bureau 
of  Navigation  at  Washington  declares  in  his  last  report 
that  the  number  of  derelicts  in  the  Sargasso  Sea  exceeds 
one  thousand !  The  Azoreans  have  a  superstitious  dread 
of  the  region.  Their  sailing  vessels  are  small  and  they 
fear  to  venture  far  southward,  lest  they  get  inside  the 
circle  of  calm,  from  which  there  is  no  escape  except 
under  steam." 

"Have  the  Azoreans  any  form  of  government?" 

"Theirs  is  an  autonomy,  acknowledging  the  sover- 
eignty of  the  King  of  Portugal."  replied  Mr.  Norton  ; 
"but  they  have  their  own  flag, — a  blue  hawk  on  a  white 
field." 

"Yes,  the  ensign  is  floating  at  the  landing-stage,  but 
through  the  glass  the  bird  looks  like  one  of  Mother 
Cary's  chickens,"  remarked  Doris,  still  scanning  the  sea- 
port. "I  must  have  one  of  those  flags."  Then  she 
added : — "Why !  I  can  read  the  time  o'day  on  the  clock- 
tower  ashore — exactly  twenty  minutes  after  one !" 

"Were  vou  very  lonely?"  asked  Mrs.  Wentworth,  ad- 
dressing "the  man  who'd  been  there." 

"On  the  contrary,"  was  his  reply.  "There  are  good 
cafes,  a  jolly  theatre,  and  an  opera  house.  St.  Michael 
doesn't  seem  out  of  the  world  since  a  cable  has  been  laid 
from  Lisbon." 

"What  makes  life  most  interesting  in  the  Azores?" 

"Money!"  was  the  prompt  rejoinder.  "It  is  a 
source  of  constant  merriment — being  scarce  and  much 
debased.     An  American  eagle  equals  13,480  reis;  but  a 


Flying  the   Blue  Hawk 


27 


native  family  will  live  a  month  on  ten  thousand  reis ! 
I  could  take  a  thousand  (U)llars  in  American  gold  to 
Horta  or  Ponta  Delgada.  and.  ])y  judiciously  lending  it, 
live  on  the  income." 

"That's  a  fine  rock  ofif  \^illa  Franca !"  exclaimed  Doris. 


An    AzOKEAN   t>ONKEY-DRIVER    AT    PONTA    DELGADA 

.who,  after  a  long  survey  through  the  glass,  had  con- 
sulted a  chart  on  deck. 

"It  is  memorable — a  fragment  of  the  overhanging 
mountains,  torn  away  by  a  sudden  convulsion  of  nature," 
explained  our  authority.  "Though  in  deep  water,  its 
precipitous  sides  rise  a  hundred  feet  above  high  tide." 

I    recalled   several    rocks   of   similar  character   in    the 


28  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

IMediterranean — at  Cape  Spartivento,  Sardinia ;  at  Strom- 
boli,  near  the  Strait  of  Messina,  and  a  lonely  islet  off  the 
southern  coast  of  Crete,  with  its  lighthouse  i,ioo  feet 
above  water. 

"If  I  lived  at  Villa  Franca  I'd  suft'er  constant  fear 
that  the  rock  might  slide  into  its  old  place  and  blot  out 
the  city  forever,"  mused  Doris. 

"Your  anxiety  would  not  be  unfounded  in  this  part 
of  the  globe,  where  islands  rise  out  the  sea  and  disappear 
before  their  shores  are  cool  enough  to  bear  the  feet  of 
man." 

The  vine-clatl  terraces  of  St.  Aiichael  unrolled  like 
a  panorama  during  that  afternoon.  A  wagon-road  clung 
to  the  mountain-side,  half  a  mile  high,  and,  at  one  place, 
a  stone  bridge  of  a  single  arch  carried  it  across  a  yawn- 
ing chasm.  Village  succeeded  village,  and  mountain 
followed  mountain,  until  a  rocky  cliff  a  thousand  feet 
high  marked  the  land's  end. 

We  sat  watching  that  headland  until  it  sank  into  the 
water,  much  as  the  Azores  fishermen  describe  the  disap- 
pearance of  the  mysterious  volcanic  isle  near  Santa 
Maria,  once  charted,  but  not  to  be  found  to-day  at  sixty 
fathoms'  depth. 

The  Azores  went  to  rest  in  their  ocean-bed  at  early 
candle-light. 


WATER    BATTERY  AT   GIBRALTAR,    UNDER       THE   LION  S   PAW 

Chaplcr   T/iree 

The  ''Gib"  and  the  ''Med" 


THE  landing  facilities  at  Gibraltar  are  excellent. 
A  snug  steam-launch    came    alongside    the 
Trave  after  breakfast,  and  we  went  ashore 
with  no  more  trouble  than  one  has  in  cross- 
ing the  North  River  on  a  ferry-boat.  . 

Our  tickets   for   Naples   were   stamped   for  a  week's 
"stop  over"  at  The  Rock. 

We  were  under  the  protection  of  the  English  flag. 
Gibraltar,  town  and  fortress,  can  be  seen  in  the  three 
to  five  hours'  shore-leave  that  the  steamers  give  their 
through  passengers,  but  we  had  planned  to  utilize  the 
week  in  visiting  Andalasia  and  the  City  of  Tan- 
gier. The  village-carts  are  pretty,  comfortable,  well 
horsed,  and  cheap.  Hotels  are  numerous,  and  one  is  ex- 
cellent. Shops  are  few  and  confined  to  one  long  street. 
"Here  one  gets  the  first  sight  of  the  Moor,"  says  every 
book  I  have  read  on  Gibraltar.     As  we  shall  hunt  him 

29 


30  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

to  liis  lair  at  Tangier,  and  study  him  in  his  days  of  great- 
ness at  Granada  and  Cairo,  we  need  not  dwell  upon  him 
here. 

The  Aloor  is  a  psychological  paradox, — cleanly  of 
heart,  but  filthy  of  mind ;  a  marvel  of  piety,  and  a  para- 
gon of  greed.  Partnership  in  trade  is  unknown  to  him, 
because  he  lacks  faith  in  his  fellow-man.  He  has  turned 
his  sword  into  a  steeh'ards  that  weighs  light !  People 
who  know  him,  never  trust  him ;  those  who  trust  him, 
soon  know  him  too  well.  These  truths  apply  to  the  in- 
dividual Moor,  whetlier  you  meet  him  in  Gibraltar,  at 
Fez,  Constantine,  Tunis,  Cairo,  Mecca,  Jerusalem,  Da- 
mascus, Smyrna,  or  Constantinople.  Once  the  master 
of  the  Mediterranean,  afloat  and  ashore,  he  is  a  vaga- 
bond to-day,  having  nothing  left  of  his  vast  possessions 
but  a  patch  of  sand  under  the  frowning  heights  of  Gibel 
Muza,  at  the  Gate  of  Hercules. 

Mrs.  Wentworth  ensconced  herself  at  a  hotel  on  the 
main  street,  while  her  daughter  and  I  drove  about  the 
cit}-.  At  the  steamship  ofifice  we  found  a  cablegram  ad- 
dressed to  Mrs.  Wentworth ;  but  after  a  moment's  hesi- 
tation, Doris  opened  the  envelope  and  I  knew  from  her 
face  that  its  contents  pleased  her.  She  frankly  told  me 
that  Mr.  \>rnon  Blake  had  sailed  for  Gibraltar  and 
would  arrive  in  a  week ! 

\\niat  a  high  priestess  of  prophecy  was  Mrs.  Went- 
worth !  She  had  said,  "He  will  come !"  and  "he"  w^as 
now  on  the  way. 

I  knew  Blake,  and  his  suit  deserved  to  have  Mrs. 
Wentworth's  sanction.  He  was  a  young  man  of  wealth 
and  untarnished  name — two  facts  that  do  not  alwa)s  go 


#       I     ,IJ'  Wl   ||C|.'  \       I      ■.^,,  '^ 


^ 

■■■1.^.' 

,J,j\ 

Wu 

■ 

wamm... 

THE  GREAT  ROCK  FROM  THE  SEA;  SAID  TO 
RESEMBLE  A  CROUCHING  LION,  GUARDIAN 
OF  BRITISH  SUPREMACY 


32  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

together.  Member  of  a  dozen  ckibs,  his  reputation  was 
not  that  of  a  roysterer;  heir  to  a  fortune,  he  devoted 
nine  months  of  every  year  to  active  work. 

A  subsequent  conversation,  introduced  here,  will  make 
the  situation  clearer. 

"Two  men  were  at  the  wharf  to  say  'good-bye'  to 
Doris,"  explained  Mrs.  Wentworth.  "Mr.  Blake  con- 
trived to  get  a  few  words  alone  with  her,  and  confessed 
he  wanted  to  make  a  similar  trip,  but  hesitated  lest  she 
might  not  care  to  see  him  abroad.  This  was  Doris' 
answer:  'Indeed,  Mr.  Blake,  I  couldn't  prevent  you 
from  going  anywhere  you  like.  Please  don't  consider 
me.'  Wasn't  she  clever?  From  her  words,  he  couldn't 
guess  whether  or  not  she  wanted  him  to  come.  Her 
tact  couldn't  have  been  better." 

She's  her  mother's  daughter,  was  my  thought. 

Doris  and  I  reached  the  entrance  of  the  fortress,  where 
we  left  the  carriage.  A  very  young  Scotch  Highlander 
was  assigned  to  conduct  us  through  the  fort. 

"He  must  miss  his  mother,  poor  boy,"  commented 
Doris. 

The  Rock  was  punctured  with  cannon,  much  as  is  a 
Westphalian  ham  with  cloves.  The  end  of  each  gal- 
lery was  a  bower  of  shrubbery ;  but  behind  the  oleanders 
and  rhododendrons  were  muzzles  of  Whitworth  and 
Armstrong  guns,  hidden  like  scorpions  in  a  colored  rug. 

We  walked  several  miles  on  the  sunlighted  terraces  or 
amid  the  shadows  of  rocky  galleries,  and  finally  entered 
a  dark  casemate,  the  only  tenant  of  which  was  a  breach- 
loading  cannon,  swathed  in  an  oiled-cloth  wrapper. 
Here  was  one  of  a  series  of  "secret"  chambers  that  over- 


OFFICIAL  QUARTER  OF  GIBRALTAR,  SHOW- 
ING BARRACKS  AND  HILL-TOP.  WHERE  1  00- 
TON  GUNS  ARE  MOUNTED 


34  The  Destiny  of   Doris 

look  the  Neutral  Ground,  across  which  an  attack  by  foot- 
soldiers  must  come. 

Returning  to  town,  I  paid  a  visit  to  the  Governor,  who 
kindly  granted  permission  for  our  party  to  ascend  by 
a  wire  trolley  to  the  signal  station.  The  view  from  the 
pinnacle  of  the  Rock  was  unqualifiedly  grand ! 

The  Gate  of  Hercules  stood  very  wide  ajar!  Sea- 
ward, lay  the  battle-bay  of  Trafalgar,  where  Nelson  w^on 
the  monument  round  which  modern  London  revolves. 
Across  the  Strait  was  the  prison-pen  of  Ceuta,  over  wbicb 
will  always  hover  the  wraiths  of  Cuban  prisoners  wdio 
died  therein  for  the  cause  of  liberty.  Westward  were 
the  waters  of  Gibraltar  Bay ;  and  on  its  farther  shore, 
Algeciras,  with  its  dainty  English  hotel  and  its  large 
bull-ring.  To  the  north  was  the  stretch  of  sand  that 
makes  a  peninsula  of  The  Rock — "No  Man's  Land," 
while  England  owns  these  frowning  battlements.  Be- 
yond "the  dead  line,"  the  wretched  town  of  Linea — as 
full  of  smugglers  as  is  a  trust  company's  office  of 
widow^s. 

To  the  northeast  rose  the  peaks  of  the  Sierra  Nevada, 
wearing  the  white  fez  of  eternal  snow,  and  hiding  from 
our  sight  the  dream-town  of  Granada,  with  its  Arabian 
palace.  At  their  feet,  on  the  shore,  was  Malaga,  the 
seaport  of  grape-land. 

Stretching  eastward,  as  far  as  Phoenicia,  spread  the 
dimpled  blue  Sea  of  All  Antiquity,  every  square  mile 
of  its  waters  having  a  place  in  the  chronology  of  man — 
keeper  of  more  secrets  than  all  the  oceans ! 

"The  Mediterranean  is  the  greatest  spectacle  at  Gib- 
raltar!" said  L 


The  "Gib"  and  the  "Med" 


i5 


"And  the  dizzy  height  on  which  we  stand,  is  the  point 
from  which  to  take  a  survey  of  the  midwater  that  di- 
vided the  ancient  world."  retorted  Doris. 

A  miUtary  estimate  of  Gibrakar's  vakie  should  be 
made  with  entire  regard  for  truth,  rather  than  sentiment. 
Encouraged  to  frankness  by  a  recent  reading  of  Lord 


ViKw  OF  THE  Rock  of  Gibraltar,  from  the  Eastward 


Milner's  "England  in  Egypt,"  I  admit,  as  a  spectacle, 
that  the  Rock  is  sublimely  wonderful,  but  deny  that  it  is 
a  menace  to  anybody.  Impregnable  as  any  fortress  in 
these  days  of  dynamite  shells  it  may  be ;  but  who  would 
want  to  capture  it?  Spain?  Ah!  yes;  she  has  a  scnti- 
nicntal  longing  to  repossess  Gibraltar,  just  as  she  has  to 


36  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

regain  her  countless  lost  possessions.  Nobody  else  in 
Europe  would  take  it  as  a  gift. 

Gibraltar  is  a  show  place — where  is  enacted  a  constant 
kriegspiel — where  the  band  plays  on  the  Alameda  every 
afternoon  and  where  antiquated  guns  are  fired  at  dawn 
and  dusk  to  mark  the  coming  and  parting  day.  The 
brandy-and-soda  is  good,  and  the  distribution  of  the 
King's  coin  for  breakwaters,  dry  docks,  and  bull  pups 
is  enormous. 

Geb-el-Tarik  is  the  greatest  "bluff"  in  all  creation ! 


tlRST   SIGHT   OF    THE    CAMEL,    ON    THE   SANDY   SHORE    AT   ALGECIRAS 


Chapter  Foii> 


A  Reawakened  People 


SPA IX  is  Living-  Spain  once  more!  Thrown 
upon  her  own  resources  as  never  before,  she 
is  a  nation  with  a  purpose.  The  loss  of  her 
colonial  possessions  has  aroused  her  peo- 
ple. Spain  stood  still  two  hundred  years,  while 
the  rest  of  the  world  marched  past.  But  now  she  has 
caught  the  step  of  the  new  century.  Achievement  is 
supplanting  deterrent  pride.  Adversity  has  taught  her 
people  the  necessity  of  individual  effort.  They  no 
longer  stand  against  the  walls  and  cfy.  They  have 
faced  about. 

Granada,  the  wonder-spot  of  Spain,  has  been  brought 
to  the  door  of  New  York  by  direct  steamship-  and  rail- 
way-communication. Gibraltar,  not  Irun,  has  become  the 
New  World's  gateway  to  the  Tberian  peninsula ! 

''There  is  a  new  hotel  across  the  bay  at  Algeciras," 
said   Mrs.   Wentwortli,   the  moment   Doris  and   I    reap- 


38  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

pcared,  "and  I  suggest  that  we  go  over  there  this  after- 
noon, so  that  we  shall  not  have  to  make  so  early  a  start." 

"If  we  stay  in  Gibraltar,  we  must  rise  before  daylight," 
I  admitted.  "The  idea  is  excellent.  Let  us  go,  by  all 
means." 

Leaving  our  heavy  baggage,  we  crossed  the  bay  about 
4  o'clock  and  were  driven  to  one  of  the  prettiest  hotels 
we  saw  on  the  Mediterranean.  It  was  like  a  summer 
resort  on  the  New  England  coast. 

We  then  drove  to  the  bull-ring.  It  has  seating  capac- 
ity for  10,000  people.  The  custodian  of  the  place  showed 
the  arena  with  evident  pride,  and  finally  sold  us  some 
barbs  as  souvenirs. 

Railway  management  is  alike  in  all  parts  of  Spain. 
Trains  always  start  at  sun-rise,  and  they  trifle  away  all 
the  day  reaching  a  destination.  The  same  conditions 
used  to  exist  in  Cuba.  Although  this  new  road  from 
Algeciras  to  Bobadilla  is  owned  by  English  capitalists, 
the  law  requires  that  only  Spanish  engineers  and  stokers 
shall  be  employed.  The  line  climbs  the  mountains 
through  a  succession  of  Andalusian  landscapes. 

Ronda  was  in  sight  an  hour  before  its  station  was 
reached.  In  that  ancient  city,  the  newest  feature  is  a 
fifteenth-century  arch  across  a  gaping  ravine  in  the  heart 
of  the  town.  Although  Ronda  has  an  elevation  of  half  a 
mile,  it  is  in  a  valley,  amid  towering  mountain-heights. 
Here  is  the  true  home  of  the  olive  tree  in  Spain. 

Bobadilla  boasts  a  modern  restaurant,  at  which  we 
were  well  served.  After  luncheon,  the  eastern  ride  to- 
ward "the  heavenly  plain  of  Granada"  began.  The  rails 
follow  the  highway  over  which  Columbus  went  to  the 


A  Reawakened  People 


39 


capital  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  and  its  condition  is  still 
sut^cient  to  delight  the  eye  of  an  enthusiastic  bicyclist. 
Antiquera,  site  of  a  long  siege,  clings  to  a  stony  crag, 
a  mile  from  the  railway.  In  the  days  of  the  conquest, 
it  was  a  walled  town.  There  the  Christian  hosts  pre- 
pared for  their  advance  upon  the  Moorish  stronghold  at 


Across  the  Bay  is  Algeciras,  wheke  A  Bull-fight 


.ulj  Eveky  Sunday 


Granada.  The  ruins  of  a  catliedral  and  a  few  remnants 
of  its  walls  are  all  that  remain  of  the  ancient  town. 

Doris  watched  for  the  Lover's  Rock,  and  we  kept  it 
in  sight  for  several  hour^.  In  sha])c,  it  recalls  the  Maid- 
en's Rock  in  Lake  I\'])in,  on  the  U])per  Mississi])])i. 

When   the   (icnil    X'alley   was   entered,   the    I '.ridge   of 


40  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

Peiias,  where  Columbus  was  overtaken  by  the  messenger 
of  Isabella,  became  the  first  object  of  interest.  Disap- 
pointed and  morose,  the  Italian  was  leaving-  the  Spanish 
court,  bound  to  England  for  a  final  argument  with  Henry 
VII. 

"The  momentous  misfortune  of  that  meeting — ])or- 
trayed  in  oil  on  the  Senate  stairway  of  our  Capitol  at 
Washington — is  beyond  dispute,"  I  commented. 

"I'm  sorry  Columbus  didn't  get  away,"  was  Doris' 
rejoinder. 

"England's  king  had  already  lost  one  opportunity  to 
find  the  New  World,  just  as  nearly  three  hundred  years 
later  a  successor  of  his  threw  away  the  best  part  of  the 
continent  that  Columbus  had  discovered,"  I  suggested. 

"True  enough,"  admitted  Doris,  "but  had  Columbus 
reached  London  and  convinced  England's  chuckle- 
headed  king,  the  American  continents  would  have  begun 
their  careers  under  English  auspices  instead  of  Spanish, 
and  their  peoples  would  be  a  hundred  years  ahead  of 
where  they  are  to-day.  South  America  would  be  pros- 
perous and  progressive,  as  is  the  northern  half  of  the 
hemisphere,  and  all  the  New  World  would  be  different." 

The  single  arch  of  that  bridge  isn't  nntch  to  see ;  but 
it  is  a  pivotal  spot  of  modern  history!  Compared  with 
it,  the  bridge  at  Lodi,  and  that  one  on  which  Motley 
leaves  his  German  hero,  dwindles  into  insignificance. 

"The  Alhambra !"  exclaimed  Doris,  as  the  train  swung 
round  a  curve. 

I  had  taken  the  precaution  to  seat  her  on  the  right- 
hand  side  of  the  car,  that  she  might  get  the  first  glimpse 
of  the  fortress.     She  had  guessed  aright !     Hovering  in 


THE  VIEW  THAT  ATTRACTED  DORIS' 
ATTENTION  FROM  THE  CAR-WINDOW 
— THE  VERMILION  TOWER 


42  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

mid-air,  between  the  sparkling  skyline  and  the  dark  green 
verdure  of  the  plain,  were  the  brown  towers  of  the  Al- 
hambra ! 

This  view  once  seen  is  never  forgotten.  There  is  none 
like  it  on  earth.  Its  harmony  of  color  is  unchangeable, 
because  the  olive  and  cypress  are  ever-faithfuUy  green 
and  the  snowy  whiteness  of  the  mountain-tops  is  eternal. 

"The  Spanish  colors  are  floating  over  a  large  tower 
on  the  hill-side,"  said  Doris,  standing  at  the  car-window, 
studying  the  scene. 

"Yes,  that  is  the  Vermillion  Tower,  used  as  a  garrison 
for  a  small  body  of  troops,"  I  explained.  "You  will  re- 
member the  place  as  the  prison  of  the  three  beautiful 
princesses,  beloved  by  the  three  Christian  knights." 

"To-day  adds  another  to  my  collection  of  flags — the 
United  States,  German,  Azorean,  English,  and  Spanish," 
said  Doris,  a  few  minutes  later.  "Quite  a  pretty  and 
patriotic  fad,  don't  you  think  so?" 

"The  flags  of  all  the  countries  you  visit  will  serve  as 
an  interesting  souvenir  of  your  trip." 

"I  was  here  on  my  wedding  tour,"  Mrs.  Wentworth 
declared ;  "but  we  have  come  to  see  the  Alhambra,  and 
must  go  to  the  hotel  on  the  heights,  in  the  garden  of  the 
fortress." 

Thither  we  drove,  along  avenues  of  towering  elms  and 
cypresses,  up  that  haunted  hill  to  the  best  hotel  in  Spain, 
sheltered  amid  embowering  jasmines,  oleanders,  and 
lemon  trees. 


ALONG  THIS  AVENUE  WE  DROVE  TO  THE 
HOTEL,  AMID  EMBOWERING  JASMINES, 
OLEANDERS,  AND   LEMON-TREES 


THE    ALHAMBRA-HILL   AND    THE   CATHEDRAL    IN    GRANADA 


Chapter  Five 


The  Arab  at  His  Best 


WHEN  the  Arab  felt  himself  secure  in  Spain, 
he  folded  his  tent  in  the  valley  and  began 
building   castles    in    the   air.     He   thought 
the    dominion    of    the    sword    would    en- 
dure forever ;  and  his  belief  was  well  founded.     Toledo 
was  a  Gibraltar  in  its  day ;  Ronda  was  a  mountain  Que- 
bec. 

The  Alhambra  rose  as  a  fortified  place,  inside  which 
was  a  fairy  palace.  The  mosques  at  Cordova  and  Se- 
ville, being  places  of  worship,  were  builded  on  the  plain, 
and  the  Arab  encamped  round  about,  guarding  them, 
just  as  for  centuries  he  had  watched  the  Holy  Sepulchre 
in  Palestine ;  for  had  not  Saladin  preserved  the  City  of 
the  Christians  against  the  hand  of  Richard  I. ! 

Washington  Irving,  who  made  the  Alhambra  the  show- 
place  of  Europe,  wrote  history  in  his  day,  just  as  Mark 
Twain  writes  it  in  ours.    He  never  failed  to  account  for  a 

44 


The  Arab  at   His  Best 


45 


fact.  Given  a  ruin  or  a  battle-field,  he'd  fit  the  history 
into  one  or  marshal  the  warriors  round  the  other.  He 
was  the  kind  of  historian  I  like.  He  ennobled  a  triHing 
war  into  a  great  episode  of  history. 

Manv  years  ago.  I  spent  some  time  at  the  Alhambra, 
and  passed  whole  days  on  top  the  Watch  Tower,  from 


The  Gate  of  Justice,  and  the  Tablet  of  Charles  V. 


which  nearly  every  battle-field  can  be  seen,  reading  ''The 
Conquest  of  Granada."  It  is  the  Arab  version  of  that 
war,  and,  in  a  future  reincarnation,  Mahomet  may  in- 
corporate much  of  that  book  in  the  Koran,  excising  chap- 
ters of  the  Arabic  bible  that  do  not  rise  to  the  level  of 
Johnny's  composition  about  "The  Cow."  Aloft  on  that 
same  tower,  a  bell  is  rung  at  night  to  tell  the  people  of 


46  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

Granada  that  the  Moors  have  not  come  back  to  clahii  their 
own. 

Events  less  probable  than  the  reconquest  of  Spain  by 
the  Moors,  have  occurred.  Could  the  forces  of  Islam 
unite,  the  blood-red  standard  might  again  float  over  the 
Alhambra,  and  prophecy  be  fulfilled.  The  Moors  of 
Granada  hear  in  every  blast  that  stirs  the  never-despair- 
ing cypresses,  a  wail — "Ycrga!"  ("We'll  come  back!") 

The  Alhambra  crowns  a  spur  of  the  Sierra  Nevada, 
which  leaves  the  sterile  foot-hills  and  phmges  into  a  lux- 
uriantly verdant  plain.  Embracing  this  rocky  crag — 
much  as  the  Ottoman  crescent  clutches  its  star — is  the 
city  of  Granada,  half-Moorish,  half-Iberian.  A  strong 
wall  originally  surmounted  the  crest  of  this  mountain, 
serving  as  a  primary  defence  for  the  stronger  citadel, 
which  held  the  palace  as  a  jewel  in  its  case;  but  many  of 
the  twenty  towers  and  most  of  the  walls  are  gone.  The 
Vermillion  bastion,  far  apart  from  the  main  work,  is  the 
most  imposing  evidence  of  former  strength  and  grand- 
uer.  The  inner  fortress,  or  alcazar,  which  we  have 
come  to  see,  crowns  the  northeast  side  of  a  ravine  that 
cleaves  the  hill  in  twain.  It  had  its  own  system  of  walls, 
towers,  and  bastions.  Several  gates  originally  pierced 
its  sides,  of  which  that  called  Justice  alone  remains. 
During  the  eighteenth  century  vandal-hands  cut  a  car- 
riage roadway  through  the  sandstone  battlemented- 
walls. 

The  Arab  boldly  built  his  citadels  without  or- 
namentation, but  when  he  undertook  to  rear  a 
mosque  or  palace,  he  became  a  toymaker  in  archi- 
tecture.      Ruin    though    it    was,    when    first     studied, 


HEIGHTS  BEHIND  THE  ALHAMBRA,  WITH  SIERRA 
NEVADAS,  SHOWING  RELATIVE  POSITION  OF  THE 
SUMMER   PALACE,  THE  GENERALIFE 


48  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

the  Alhambra  is  the  acknowledged  inspiration  of 
a  distinct  school  of  architectural  art.  With  all 
outdoors  to  draw  from,  the  Arab  builder  needed  little 
space  for  the  sensuous  luxury  of  his  habitation.  He  con- 
secrated its  interior  to  the  indulgences  of  the  flesh,  but 
dedicated  the  exterior  to  the  glory  of  Allah.  Heartless 
in  war,  the  Arab  thought  himself  tender  in  love. 

It  is  quite  possible  to  gain  a  general  idea  of  the  Al- 
hambra in  a  single  visit.  Subsequently,  each  court  and 
garden  may  be  studied  in  detail.  Nobody  knows  what 
kind  of  an  entrance  the  palace  originally  had,  because  it 
was  destroyed  by  the  vandalism  of  Charles  V.,  to  make 
room  for  his  monstrous  bull-ring  house.  That  it  was 
small  and  unimposing,  may  be  assumed  from  the  stealth 
of  the  Arab  nature. 

Through  a  portal  narrow  as  the  vision  of  an  odalisk, 
Mrs.  Wentworth,  Doris,  and  I  left  Gothic  Spain  behind 
and  passed  into  a  dreamland  of  Saracenic  art.  The  series 
of  visions  that  followed  may  be  poorly  set  to  words : 

The  Court  of  Myrtles,  with  its  transparent  tank, 
served  as  a  corridor  to  the  Hall  of  the  Ambassadors,  to- 
ward which  we  advanced  slowly  and  in  awed  wonder- 
ment, as  many  others  had  done  before.  Upon  the  lintel 
of  its  doorway,  in  graceful  Arabic  script,  were  the  words : 
"I  take  refuge  in  the  God  of  Dawn."  A  few  steps,  and 
we  stood  upon  the  blue-tiled  center-piece  of  the  Audience 
Chamber.  Everywhere  the  silence  of  death !  But  those 
walls  Jiad  resounded  to  the  echoes  of  violent  human 
speech.  Here  was  uttered  the  defiance  of  Muley-Hassan, 
which  proved  to  be  the  first  incident  of  Moorish  downfall. 
On  this  spot,  at  a  later  day,  Boabdil  agreed  to  surrender 


The  Arab  at  His  Best 


49 


Granada,  amid  the  taunts  and  jeers  of  his  counselors. 
Columbus  stood  upon  these  same  pale-blue  tiles  while 
making  his  final,  earnest  plea  to  Isabella  and  Ferdinand, 
— enthroned    before 


him, — c  raving-  the 
privilege  of  m  a  k  i  n  g 
their  names  immortal ! 

Standing  in  the  em- 
brasure of  the  central 
window,  we  gazed  out 
and  downward  at  the 
noisy  Darro ;  then  in 
and  upw^ard  at  the  stal- 
actite-ceiling, curious 
as  the  roof  of  a 
mosque. 

Leaving  the  Audi- 
ence Hall,  we  retrav- 
ersed  the  myrtle-em- 
bowered pathway,  and 
a  door  that  once  held  a 
silken  curtain  ushered 
us  into  the  Court  of 
Lions,  a  true  parallelo- 
gram  of  two   squares, 

containing  the  finest  handiwork  of  the  race  of  Hagar. 
Never  was  beauty  better  idealized.  All  the  cupolas  of 
its  stalactite-canoi)ied  galleries  ditfcr  in  ornanieiUation  ; 
and  yet  the  symmetry  of  the  whole  is  perfect.  So  iden- 
tified with  romance  was  this  court,  that  the  sleepy  mon- 


"^^^—^"^ 


A  GiPSEY  Prince,  who  was  Fortuny's 
Model. 


50  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

grel  lion-cubs,  huddling  tail  to  tail  under  the  marble 
bowl  in  its  center,  did  not  evoke  a  smile. 

Ascending  two  steps,  our  feet  trod  the  spot  where  the 
gallant  Abencerrages  lost  their  heads — one  by  one,  as 
they  passed  beyond  heavy  draperies,  which  stifled  their 
death-gurgles. 

"It  was  a  pretty  place  in  which  to  die — one  of  the 
choicest  in  the  castle,"  I  commented,  as  we  passed  to  the 
Hall  of  Justice. 

"This  was  a  very  small  court  room,"  said  Mrs.  Went- 
worth. 

"Justice  was  dangerous  to  seek,  and  was  dispensed 
with  a  promptitude  that  chilled  the  enthusiasm  of  liti- 
gants," I  explained. 

In  the  Court  of  the  Captive  was  found  the  absolutely 
idyllic.  It  was  the  entrance  to  the  harem,  and  it  still 
breathed  of  love  and  tragedy.  Its  crenelated  windows 
gave  upon  a  dainty  garden,  green  and  yellow  with 
bearing  lemon  trees.  Here  was  wantonness  spiritualized, 
— made  divine.  The  interior  of  this  small  apartment  is 
like  a  white  orchid.  Here  stood  the  great  vase  of  the 
Alhambra,  now  removed.  It  held  a  hundred  gallons  of 
ottar  of  roses ! 

The  passage  leading  to  the  apartments  occupied  by 
Washington  Irving  is  known  as  the  Nest  of  Lindaraxa. 
Its  skylights  are  the  finest  in  the  palace.  Here  is  always 
twilight,  tempered  by  the  glow  of  stained-glass  rays, 
showered  upon  a  black-and-white  mosaic  floor. 

I  sat  down  upon  a  window  ledge ;  and  the  memory  of 
those  minutes  of  silent  meditation  will  go  with  me  to 
another  world. 


COURT  OF  THE  CAPTIVE  ;  ITS  CRENE- 
LATED WINDOWS  LOOK  UPON  THE 
GARDEN  OF  LINDARAXA 


52  Tlie  Destiny  of  Doris 

Looking  toward  its  fountain,  which  has  ceased  to  play, 
or  studying  the  greens  and  yellows  of  its  thriving  trees, 
was  an  ecstatic  dream  of  sensuous  life. — all  ours  for  the 
time,  because  not  a  disturbing  sound  was  heard. 

"Some  people  write  books  to  show  how  learned  they 
are,"  said  Doris,  as  we  left  the  palace  in  the  same  stealthy 
manner  we  had  entered  it. 

"If  you  want  to  assume  a  wisdom  you  don't  possess, 
give  a  few  hours  to  Doctor  Contreras'  monograph  on 
'The  Arabic  Monuments  of  Granada,  Seville,  and  Cor- 
dova,' or  'Conde's  History  of  the  Arabs  in  Spain,'  and 
you  can  mouthe  with  the  learned  gravity  of  an  archaeol- 
ogist," I  replied,  leading  the  way  to  the  Watch  Tower 
to  inspect  the  Bell  of  the  Bridal  Wish. 

W^hen  Granada's  fortress  was  occupied  by  the  Chris- 
tian troops  of  Ferdinand,  a  fear  existed  that  the  ]\Ioor 
would  suddenly  reappear.  Signal-stations  were  built 
on  every  mountain-top  between  the  Great  Sea  and  the 
Genile  Valley,  so  that  the  landing  of  the  Infidel  would  be 
promptly  announced.  An  alarm-bell  was  raised  on  the 
foremost  outpost  of  the  fortress,  and  was  tolled  during 
the  darkness,  to  reassure  the  trembling  Spaniards  in  the 
city  below.  No  doubt  it  would  have  been  violently  rung 
liad  unfavorable  news  arrived  ;  but  silence  the  Christian 
conquerors  could  not  endure.  A  custom  thus  begun 
continued  for  three  hundred  years.  In  the  last  cen- 
tury, the  uselessness  of  tolling  the  bell  after  nightfall  be- 
came manifest  to  the  custodian  of  the  tower,  and,  fearing 
she'd  lose  her  job,  she  ascribed  to  the  bell  a  miraculous 
power  for  providing  husbands  to  maidens  who  rang  it 
w^ith  their  knuckles.    The  idea  developed  into  a  domestic 


TOWER  OF  THE  SULTANA  :  BALCONY  ON 
RIGHT  BELONGED  TO  SUITE  OCCUPIED 
BY  WASHINGTON   IRVING 


54  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

superstition.  Every  girl  in  Andalusia  believed  the  bell  in- 
fallible, and  the  custodian  was  kept  busy  conducting 
credulous  young  women  to  the  tower-top. 

As  a  notice  of  continued  possession,  the  bell  lapsed 
into  desuetude;  but  as  a  match-maker,  its  fame  and 
popularity  increased  prodigiously. 

The  oracle  hangs  nine  feet  above  the  tiled  roof.  A 
ladder  is  necessary  to  reach  it.  and  ladders  cost  money 
in  Spain — as  elsewhere.  Hence  an  income  of  5,000 
pesetas  per  year  to  the  custodian  of  the  Vela  Tower! 
What  had  been  the  poorest  post  of  duty  in  the  castle  be- 
came the  most  remunerative. 

When  we  reached  the  roof  of  the  tower,  I  noticed 
glances  of  recognition  exchanged  between  Doris  and 
the  woman  who  guided  us  up  the  stairs. — Doris  had  in- 
voked the  oracle  before  her  mother  was  awake! 

When  Mrs.  Wentworth  learned  the  fact,  she  was 
speechless  with  surprise.  Her  daughter  took  up  a  small 
ladder,  left  on  the  roof  since  her  earlier  visit,  placed  it 
against  the  cross-beam,  and,  bounding  up  the  rounds, 
struck  the  bell  with  her  knuckles  loudly  enough  to  startle 
the  devotees  in  the  convent  across  the  Darro. 

Mrs.  Wentworth  didn't  approve  of  the  freak,  but  when 
she  began  to  chide  her  daughter  in  my  presence,  Doris 
treated  the  matter  lightly. 

"Don't  be  unreasonable,  mother,"  she  said.  "I  am  not 
a  believer  in  charms:  but  if  this  bell  works  a  miracle 
in  my  case,  I  shall  be  converted." 

"I'm  astonished!"  exclaimed  the  matron.  "Such  be- 
havior isn't  like  you,  Doris." 

"Perhaps  I  was  a  trifle  too  anxious  to  test  the  potency 


VISTA  FROM  THE  GATE  OF  THE  CENERALIFE, 
ACROSS  ITS  BEAUTIFUL  GARDEN,  TO  PIC- 
TURE GALLERY  BEYOND 


56  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

of  this  bell.     Indeed,  mother,  you  might  take  a  chance 
yourself." 

"That  will  do,  Doris  !"  said  Mrs.  Wentworth,  abruptly  ; 
but  the  girl  rattled  on,  obviously  to  forestall  comment 
upon  her  own  conduct. 

"You  are  right,  mamma;  this  bell  is  not  for  widows." 
Turning  to  me,  she  added,  "I  wonder  if  bachelors,  as  well 
as  maidens,  may  appeal  to  it?  Shall  I  ask  the  old 
woman,  Mr.  North?" 

Divining  the  motive  for  her  bantering  manner,  I  en- 
couraged her. 

"It  might  be  well  for  me  to  inquire,"  I  said,  with  af- 
fected seriousness.  "Opportunities  like  this  do  not  occur 
every  day." 

Doris  turned  to  the  ancient  Spanish  dame,  who  re- 
garded the  scene  with  folded  arms,  and  tried  her  best 
class-room  Castillian.  The  Andalusian  matron  shook 
her  head  gravely  and  said : 

"Alas!  the  charm  is  not  for  men,  and  never  provided 
a  second  husband." 

"Have  you  tried  it  yourself?"  asked  Doris,  audaciously. 

"Yes,  little  lady,"  replied  the  woman,  courtesying,  as 
her  face  developed  a  flush  like  mahogany  when  rubbed 
with  an  oiled  rag;  "and  it  failed." 

To  address  a  heroically  built  girl  like  Doris  as  "seno- 
rita"  seemed  a  weakness  of  the  language,  but,  in  the  mer- 
riment of  the  moment,  we  let  it  pass,  paid  our  fee,  and 
went  to  the  hotel  for  luncheon. 

An  hour  later,  we  walked  up  the  road  to  a  pretty 
Moorish  villa  on  a  mountain-spur  outside  the  fortifica- 
tions.    Irving  is  responsible  for  designating  the  Gener- 


ONE  OF  THE  BEAUTIFUL  COURTS  OF 
THE  ALHAMBRA.  WITH  ITS  BLOSSOMING 
PLANTS  AND  FOUNTAIN 


58  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

alife  as  a  summer  residence  of  the  Sultan.  It  is  prob- 
ably  a  more  recent  structure.  The  approach  is  through 
an  elm-bordered  road — similar  to  that  by  which  we  sub- 
sequently entered  the  beautiful  villa  of  the  Generalife's 
owner,  Marquis  di  Pallavicini,  at  Pegli,  on  the  Mediter- 
ranean. The  gurgle  of  running  water  was  always  in 
our  ears.  Boxwood  and  orchids  ornamented  the  dainty 
garden  inside  the  gate,  and  the  view  of  Granada  from  its 
balconies  was  the  best  found  anywhere. 

Of  course  we  were  shown  the  "Tree  of  the  Sultana," 
under  which  Irving  declares  one  of  the  Moorish  kings 
surprised  a  faithless  spouse  in  the  arms  of  a  slave.  It 
is  a  giant  cypress  and  upon  its  trunk  many  silly  people 
had  cut  their  names. 

Descending  the  hill  to  the  town,  we  sought  out  the 
Cathedral  and  entered  the  crypt,  where,  side  by  side,  are 
the  veritable  coffins  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella.  There, 
too,  reposed  the  demented  Juana  and  her  husband,  Philip ; 
but  the  family-tie  hardly  justified  their  intrusion  in  such 
a  presence. 

What  a  sarcasm  of  fate  that  the  bones  of  Juana  and 
Philip  should  have  been  preserved,  and  the  grave  of  Co- 
lumbus be  in  doubt!  The  grateful  people  of  Granada 
have  given  Columbus  a  fine  monument  on  the  Alameda, 
though  Isabella  dominates  the  group. 

An  early  start  was  made  next  morning  for  Seville,  and 
a  day  of  sunshine  was  passed  in  the  City  of  the  Guad- 
alquivir, before  whose  Tower  of  Gold  Julius  Caesar  an- 
chored his  ships.  The  Moors  made  Seville  beautiful. 
The  Arabic  Alcazar  does  not  suffer  by  comparison  with 
the  Gothic  Cathedral,  which  has  its  only  rival  at  Milan. 


STREET  SCENE  IN  SEVILLE,  SHOWING  A 
GRANDEE  OF  SPAIN  GOING  FOR  A  DRIVE 
ALONG  THE  GOLDEN  RIVER 


6o  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

The  Giralda  Tower  is  the  best  part  of  the  Cathedral — 
it  was  a  Moorish  Minaret.  But  when  the  bigoted  Isa- 
bella drove  out  the  Arabs,  the  City  of  Delight  became  the 
City  of  Superstition. 

Seville  is  twice  the  size  of  Granada,  and,  as  a  dwelling 
place,  is  as  ideal  as  its  title  of  "Most  Noble,  Loyal,  Heroic, 
and  Unconquerable  Seville."  The  true  Andalusian  hails 
from  the  banks  of  the  Guadalquivir.  The  race  that  em- 
bellished Seville,  engrafted  upon  its  language  all  the 
Oriental  hyperbole  of  its  own  tongue.  Sky,  sunshine, 
flowers,  painting,  music,  and  religion  are  of  the  same 
family  as  Seville. 

Whatever  were  the  accomplishments  of  the  past,  beg- 
ging is  the  fine  art  of  the  pr£sent.  Nowhere  in  all  Eu- 
rope does  mendicity  flourish  as  there. 

Life  sits  lightly  upon  the  soberest  shoulders.  Men, 
women,  and  girls  are  purveyors  of  gossip,  and  Seville  of 
to-day  is  as  full  of  jealousy  and  scandal  as  was  Florence 
in  the  days  of  Boccaccio.  Nowhere  on  the  peninsula  do 
the  women  wear  the  mantilla  so  gracefully,  and  the  viva- 
cious olive-skinnetl  beauties  have  eyes  that  would  lead 
a  saint  to  perdition.  One  must  go  to  Seville  to  under- 
stand Carmen.  We  saw  many  Carmens  at  the  cigar- 
ette factory,  and  felt  as  if  Merimee  had  preceded  us  only 
a  single  day. 

The  Cathedral  is  the  glory  of  Christian  Spain ;  its 
sacristy  is  made  heaven-like  by  canvasses  of  the  incom- 
parable Murillo.  In  its  nave  is  the  memorial  to  Ferdi- 
nand Columbus,  son  of  the  discoverer,  whereon  we  read 
the  familiar  words :  "A  Castilla  y  a  Leon  Nuevo  Mundo 
dio  Colon."     But  we  liked  best  of  any  single  object  in 


The  Arab  at  His  Best  6i 

Seville  the  Arab  muezzin-minaret  in  gold  and  gray, — 
the  Giralda  Tower.  It  cannot  be  likened  to  anytbing 
on  earth,  except  its  poor  imitation  in  Xew  York.  One 
might  ride  a  horse  nearly  to  its  top,  as  at  the  campanile 
of  St.  Mark's  in  Venice.  The  figure  of  Faith,  turning 
with  every  change  of  wind,  gives  it  name — the  Tower 
of  the  \\'eather-cock. 

The  Alcazar  is  the  grandest  remaining  specimen  of 
Arabic  art  in  Spain,  because  the  character  of  the  superb 
mosque  at  Cordova  has  been  destroyed  by  its. alteration 
into  a  Christian  church.  It  lacks  wholly  the  delicate 
and  melancholy  beauty  of  the  Alhambra.  Upon  its 
walls,  Moorish  ornamentation  ran  mad  ;  in  its  courts  was 
the  wildest  of  architectural  extravagance.  Its  Hall  of 
Ambassadors  leaves  a  memory  of  glistening  columns  and 
dainty  arches.  \\'alking  through  the  Alcazar,  I  found 
no  difficulty  in  realizing  that  Seville  was  once  a  depend- 
ency of  Damascus.  Most  intimately  associated  with  the 
Alcazar  in  the  native  mind  is  Don  Pedro — but  if  we  had 
had  a  surfeit  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  at  Granada,  in 
Seville  we  had  a  deal  too  much  of  this  bogie-man  of 
Spanish  history.. 

We  saw  libraries,  museums,  and  galleries,  all  wonder- 
ful of  their  kind  ;  but  were  we  not  bound  for  Naples, 
Alexandria,  Cairo,  Rome,  and  Florence,  where  the  wild- 
est craving  for  books,  antiquities,  sculptury,  and  paint- 
ing could  be  gratified ! 

A  night-train  carried  us  to  Cadiz. 


MAIN  STREET  IN  TANGIER,  NEAR  THE 
POST  OFFICE,  SHOWING  THE  MUEZZIN 
TOWER   OF  A   MOSOUE 


THE  WHITE   CITY  OF    TANGIER,    RISING   OUT   THE   SEA,    IN    THE    MORNING   SUN 


Chapter  Six 


The  Arab  in  His  Wane 


Now   we   shall   observe   the   Arab   in   his   utter 
despondency,"    was    my    thought,    as    our 
steamer   passed    out    Cadiz    harbor,    headed 
across  the  open  sea  for  Tangier.     We  were 
outside  the  gateway  of  the  ancient  world ! 

The  history  of  the  Arabs  is  that  of  a  nation  that  was 
mighty  for  eight  centuries  but  died  without  leaving  be- 
hind a  legitimate  name  or  country.  Old  "Charles  of  the 
Hammer"  checked  the  triumphal  progress  of  the  Arab 
on  the  plain  of  Tours.  Frank  and  Iberian  then  crowded 
him  southward  for  seven  hundred  years  until  they  drove 
him  back  to  the  shores  of  Africa. 

A  peaceful  invasion  of  Morocco  occurs  every  time  a 
steamer  reaches  Gibraltar  from  New  York  or  South- 
ampton. A  comfortable  boat  ])lies  every  other  day  be- 
tween Cibraltar  and  Cadiz,  calling  at  Tangier,  and  the 
visitor  must  time  his  travels  so  as  to  connect  at  one  or 
other  end  of  the  route.     The  most  Moorish  city  on  the 

63 


64  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

Mediterranean  is  thus  rendered  accessible.  In  sfood 
weatlier,  the  three  hours'  trip  is  very  enjoyable. 

"Tangier  the  beautiful,"  lies  at  the  back  of  a  pretty 
bay,  surrounded  by  terraced  hills.  It  rises  out  the 
water,  white  and  shining  in  the  mid-day  sun,  nearly  op- 
posite the  Spanish  pirate  stronghold  of  Tarifa.  A  land- 
ing was  made  in  small  boats  at  the  English  pier.  An  ex- 
cellent hotel  was  found  near  the  wharf,  at  which  the 
cooking  was  French,  though  the  attendants  were  Moors, 
in  their  native  garb.  Mules  were  waiting  after  lunch- 
eon, and  we  started  to  see  the  town.  Tangier's  narrow 
streets  are  so  badly  paved  and  disgustingly  dirty,  that 
the  burro  is  the  only  safe  and  cleanly  means  of  travel. 
Once  in  the  saddle,  the  riding  was  easy  and  comfortable 
— a  preparation  for  Egypt,  where  the  mule  is  a  national 
institution. 

Led  by  the  guide  and  attended  by  two  drivers,  Mrs. 
Wentworth,  Doris,  and  I  ascended  a  steep  hill  through 
the  chief  commercial  artery  from  which  diverges  all  the 
streets  of  Tangier.  It  was  as  crooked  as  the  bed  of  a 
mountain  torrent.  Several  mosques  were  passed  ;  though 
Christians  are  not  allowed  to  enter. 

"When  we  visit  Egypt,  you  will  contrast  the  obse- 
quious attention  of  the  Arabs  of  Cairo  with  the  arrogant 
indifference  and  undisguised  contempt  shown  toward  us 
by  the  Arabs  of  Tangier,"  remarked  Mrs.  Wentworth. 
"Here  they  want  nothing  of  us  but  our  money." 

A  visit  of  courtesy  to  the  Mayor  of  Tangier,  at  his 
post  of  duty  in  a  courtway  eight  feet  square,  disclosed 
a  handsome  but  gravely  solemn  man  of  sixty  years,  seated 
on   grass   matting,    robed   in   rich   silks   and   wearing   a 


CROUP  OF  MOORS  OUTSIDE  THE  WALLS,  NEAR 
THE  ENGLISH  CHURCH  :  FOREICN  CONSULATES 
SHOWN  IN   BACKGROUND,  AT   LEFT 


66  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

white  cotton  turban.  His  black  beard  was  carefully 
trimmed,  and  his  large,  lustrous  eyes  regarded  his  visitors 
with  the  condescension  always  shown  by  the  older  toward 
members  of  the  younger  races. 

The  street  was  lined  with  booths  in  which  all  trades 
were  represented.  A  tobacconist  was  separated  from  a 
tailor  by  a  thin  partition  of  rushes;  a  law  office  adjoined 
a  blacksmith  shop.  Doris  took  a  snapshot  of  a  profes- 
sional letter-writer,  seen  preparing  all  sorts  of  papers — 
from  the  tender  billets-doux  to  contracts  for  the  transfer 
of  property. 

The  city  market  was  atop  the  hill,  inside  the  wall,  and 
its  booths  were  crowded  with  wrangling  fishmongers  and 
blood-stained  butchers.  Flowers,  fruits,  and  decaying 
vegetables:;  meats,  fowl,  and  fish  were  inextricably 
mingled.  IMen  and  women,  old  and  young,  were  cry- 
ing their  bargains  in  hideous  jargon. 

The  famous  Soko,  or  "market  of  the  desert,"  was  in 
progress  on  a  sloping  hillside  overlooking  the  town,  out- 
side the  ogival  gateway.  There  we  saw  specimens  of 
all  the  North  African  races — but  not  a  negro.  The  scene 
exhibited  the  activity  of  an  ant  hill.  W'e  saw  caravans 
that  had  reached  the  coast  after  weeks  of  travel  from 
oases  in  the  Sahara.  The  traders  had  come  to  exchange 
their  wares  for  the  gold  of  Europe.  Thither  the  mer- 
chants of  Spain  and  Italy  had  voyaged  for  goods  that 
they  could  not  buy  elsewhere.  In  most  cases,  when  the 
bargaining  was  over,  the  Arabs  had  revenged  them- 
selves upon  the  European  descendants  of  their  despoilers ! 

A  nabob  of  the  desert,  gay  in  his  red  and  yellow  caftan, 
lookinsf  as  if  he  had   ridden   from  a   Gerome  or   For- 


THESE  SNAKE  CHARMERS  WERE  DOING 
BUSINESS  IN  THE  SOKO,  OR  GREAT  FAIR 
OF  THE  DESERT 


68 


The  Destiny  of  Doris 


tuny  canvas,  sat  his  Arabian  horse, — motionless  on  a 
saddle  of  scarlet  leather  with  velvet  pummel  and  mas- 
sive, brazen  stirrups.  What  were  his  thoughts?  Was 
he  dreaming  of  a  black-eyed  beauty  far  away  and  hid- 
den behind  a  mushrebiyeh  lattice?  Or  was  he  await- 
ing the  cry  of  "Ycrga!'' 

Here,  also,  were  many  kinds  of  fakirs.  Snake  charm- 
ers from  Fez,  jugglers  from  Tetuan,  and  wandering 
hermit  minstrels  from  lone  oases  vied  with  one  another 
in  attracting  attention  and  extorting  copper  coins  from 
strangers.     A  hideous  old  Bedouin  approached  us.     He 

was  fantastically  be- 
decked with  brass  or- 
naments, and  uttered 
a  monotonous  wail, 
w  h  i  c  h  he  accompa- 
nied on  a  one-stringed 
fiddle.  He  danced  so 
furiously  that  a  por- 
trait of  him  could  not 
be  taken.  Doris  want- 
ed his  picture,  and, 
finding  an  interpre- 
ter, she  asked  the  man 
from  the  desert, 

"Can  you  keep  still 
long  enough  to  be 
})hotographed?" 

"Impossible,  good 
lady,''    answered    the 


A  Hermit  Bedouin  Dancing  Dervish, 
OF  THE  Desert. 


Bedouin,  waving  his  hand  deprecatingly. 


The  Arab  in  His  Wane 


69 


"Bakshish  for  you!"  the  interpreter  was  told  to  sav. 
He  received  in  reply : 

"I  am  a  good  Mussulman,  and  the  Koran  forbids  the 
making  of  images; 
but,  really,  (with  a 
shrug  of  his  shoul- 
ders) I  need  money, 
and  Allah —  'There 
is  nobody  greater 
than  Allah!'  — Allah 
will  forgive." 

The  American  la- 
dies attracted  little 
curiosity,  aside  from 
their  hats  and  ^^ar- 
ments ;  they  evoked 
less  comment  than 
would  the  presence  of 
two  travelers  from 
Morocco  in  a  western 
American  village. 

The  Arab  aristo- 
crats completely  enveloped  their  figures  in  long,  cotton 
cloaks,  and  their  feet  were  encased  in  sandals,  except  in 
the  mosques  and  coffee-houses ;  but  Moors  of  low  degree 
wore  only  a  sack-like  garment  of  bagging,  having  holes 
for  head  and  arms,  and  a  sash  about  their  loins.  Begging 
was  not  more  common  than  in  the  Spanish  cities. 

Ascending  the  hill  to  the  h'nglish  church, — a  white- 
Iniilding  prominently  shown  in  all  general  views  of 
'J'angier, — we  set  out  on  the  high\va_\'  of  the  country  lead- 


The  Orange-grove  Keeper,  A  Modest 
Mussulman. 


70  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

ing  to  Fez.  It  was  a  muddy  foot-path,  punctured  with 
hoof-marks,  but  without  a  carriage  track.  It  skirted  the 
crest  of  the  hill  until  the  handsome  modern  buildings  of 
the  British,  American,  and  Belgian  legations  were  passed. 
Far  below  were  the  minarets  of  the  city  mosques,  and  be- 
yond shimmered  the  ocean.  Descending  into  a  valley, 
our  way  became  a  crooked  path  along  the  bed  of  a  stream. 

We  halted  at  an  orange  orchard,  wherein  were  thou- 
sands of  trees  loaded  with  luscious  fruit,  and  were  re- 
ceived by  one  of  the  most  picturesque  natives  met  any- 
where on  our  travels.  After  much  persuasion,  Doris 
induced  him  to  stand  for  his  picture.  Beyond  the  grove 
all  semblance  of  a  road  disappeared,  and  the  trampled 
path  broadened  to  half  a  mile.  Our  mules  were  turned 
into  a  wet  meadow,  and  an  hour's  ride  brought  us  to  the 
seashore  bordering  the  harbor.  The  beach  was  of  hard 
sand,  and  afforded  better  footing  than  the  swamps  of  the 
up-lands. 

The  castle  is  a  wreck  of  the  past,  without  any  vestige 
of  departed  grandeur.  Tangier,  from  its  battlements, 
is  picturesque  and  comprehensive.  In  all  directions 
good  Arabs  were  seen  emerging  upon  their  roofs  in  antic- 
ipation of  the  call  to  evening  prayers. 

"There  is  no  conqueror  but  God,"  the  Moor  has  con- 
tinued to  proclaim  from  every  wall,  but  he  apparently 
stands  in  poor  favor  wnth  the  Almighty. 

Facing  an  open  square,  outside  the  castle  wall,  are  the 
prison,  the  Imperial  Treasury  and  the  house  of  the  Gov- 
ernor of  the  province.  Across  the  plaza  is  the  Hall  of 
Justice — a  vaulted  room,  open  to  the  street,  where  we 
found  a  turbaned  judge  sitting  upon  the  floor  and  decid- 


The  Arab  in  His  Wane 


71 


ing  without  the  help  of  a  jury  all  civil  cases  brought  be- 
fore him.  Court  being  in  session,  Doris  and  her  mother 
were  anxious  to  attend.  An  interesting  case,  involving 
the  ownership  of  ten  square  metres  of  land,  was  called. 
The  plaintiff  was  an  aged   Moorish  woman,  clad  in  a 


On  the  Citadel-heights. 
Court  of  Justice.        Governor's  Harem.        Imperial  Treasury. 

single  garment  of  sackcloth,  and  accompanied  by  her 
husband,  who  was  covered  with  rags  and  patches.  The 
defendant  was  a  man  of  middle  age,  not  so  poorly 
dressed.     All  were  barelegged  and  unshod. 

The  defendant,  on  approaching  the  seat  of  justice, 
kissed  the  tips  of  the  fingers  on  his  right  hand,  and 
touched  the  turban  of  the  magistrate,  after  which  he 
seated  himself  to  hear  the  evidence. 


72  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

Without  being  sworn,  the  plaintiff  stated  her  case  with 
volubility,  and  the  guide  thus  interpreted  as  she  pro- 
gressed : 

"I  sold  to  this  man  Safira  ten  square  metres  of  land 
on  the  Tetuan  road  for  fifty  pesetas.  (Aside. — The  land 
came  to  me  from  my  father.)  This  Safira  took  posses- 
sion, raised  crops  and  sold  them,  but  never  paid  me  a 
millieme.  I  want  my  land  back  and  payment  for  the 
crop  this  man  has  raised." 

This  testimony  was  corroborated  by  her  husband,  who 
appeared  duly  humble,  owing  to  the  wealth  possessed 
by  his  wife.  In  that  Tangier  household,  woman  did 
not  occupy  an  abject  position! 

The  defendant  alleged  that  he  had  made  certain  pay- 
ments, that  the  land  was  not  as  fertile  as  represented,  and 
the  crops  had  been  meagre.  Therefore,  he  had  been  un- 
able to  meet  his  obligations.  His  manner  was  calm, 
contrasting  with  the  prosecutor  who  had  pitched  her  voice 
in  a  shrill  key.  He  was  too  deferential  toward  the  judge 
but  that  may  have  been  due  to  his  respect  for  the  law. 
He  declared  that  he  had  a  witness  to  the  payment  of  ten 
pesetas,  and  was  given  half  an  hour  to  produce  him. — a 
water-carrier  in  the  Street  of  the  Caliph. 

A  prison  for  condemned  murderers  adjoined  the  Im- 
perial Treasury.  The  men  and  boys  occupied  a  large 
room  with  a  mud  floor.  An  opening  in  the  wall  barely 
large  enough  to  allow  a  prisoner  to  crawl  through  was 
its  only  door.  A  swarthy  keeper  stood  guard  outside 
with  a  drawn  scimiter.  We  inspected  the  interior 
through  the  small  aperture.  The  men  were  shackled 
at  the  ankles.     A  boy  of  fourteen  who  had  killed  three 


A  MOORISH  WOMAN  POURING  CONFIDENCES  INTO 
THE  EARS  OF  THE  LETTER-WRITER,  CAUSING 
HIM   TO   HESITATE   FOR   WORDS 


74  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

people  was  pointed  out.  His  last  appeal  had  been  heard 
and  denied,  so  he  would  be  taken  to  the  City  of  Morocco 
for  decapitation  in  a  few  days.  In  a  serene  frame  of 
mind,  he  was  busily  engaged  in  making  straw  baskets, 
one  of  which  Mrs.  Wentworth  purchased.  Both  ladies 
were  deeply  touched,  but  moderated  their  grief  when 
the  guard  taxed  them  a  franc  for  looking  at  the  prisoners. 

Since  his  retirement  from  public  Hfe,  a  former  Gover- 
nor of  the  Khanate  has  added  to  his  income  by  permit- 
ting his  four  wives  to  receive  calls  from  foreign  ladies. 
His  dwelling  stood  at  the  back  of  the  Treasury,  its  small 
wicket  guarded  by  a  black  slave.  Imbued  with  the  same 
curiosity  that  has  enticed  other  strangers,  Doris  and  her 
mother  entered  the  marble  courtyard.  After  half  an 
hour's  absence,  they  reappeared  at  the  outer  door,  where 
the  guide  and  I  awaited  them. 

"Whether  it  be  a  real  harem  or  not,  I  certainly  have 
seen  two  very  beautiful  young  girls,"  exclaimed .  Mrs. 
Wentworth.  "Their  large  dark  eyes,  fine  olive  complex- 
ions, and  painted  lips  made  them  pictures  of  Oriental 
loveliness.  They  were  elaborately  dressed  in  bright-col- 
ored silken  robes,  with  a  profusion  of  jewels,  and  reclined 
on  sumptuous  divans.  Older  women  waited  on  the  two 
voung  favorites,  and  I  was  highly  interested  in  listening 
to  their  halting  French.  Doris,  however,  became  fright- 
ened by  the  importunities  of  the  serving-w'omen  for 
money." 

"You  do  not  realize,  madame,"  hastily  interposed  our 
guide,  "that  'money'  is  probably  the  only  English  word 
they  know." 

"At  all  events,"  said  Mrs.  Wentworth,  "ladies  who  en- 


The  Arab  in   His  Wane  75 

ter  the  place  expecting  to  behold  groups  of  languid-eyed, 
jewel-bedecked  women  surrounded  by  slaves,  resting 
amid  perfumed  vapors  and  lisiening  to  music  or  accom- 
panying the  lute  in  soft  monotones,  will  be  disappointed. 
However,  the  visit  has  given  us  a  correct  impression  of 
the  interior  of  a  Moorish  home  of  some  wealth,  the  na- 
tional dress  of  the  women,  and  their  domestic  life." 

The  descent  from  the  citadel-hill  is  very  steep.  Mrs. 
Wentworth,  who  never  met  a  fence  that  she  couldn't 
take,  trusted  her  mule  implicitly.  Doris  was  not  to  be 
outdone,  and  kept  her  seat ;  but  she  conceded  the  good 
sense  of  any  woman  who  dismounted  and  walked. 
Broken  bones  in  Tangier  would  be  serious,  because  there 
is  no  hospital,  and  surgeons  are  unknown. 

After  dinner  and  a  brief  rest,  we  went  with  a  native 
guide  to  a  Moorish  coffee-house.  The  large  apartment 
was  crowded  with  patrons,  all  seated  on  the  floor.  An 
orchestra  of  eight  musicians,  curled  up  on  mats,  made 
hideous  noises  at  one  end  of  the  room.  The  players 
drank  tea,  in  which  mint-leaves  were  crushed.  An  Arab 
who  sat  near  pointed  out  to  us  a  young  musician  strum- 
ming a  mandolin,  who  rolled  his  eyes  and  uttered  a  low 
plaintive  chant.  He  was  a  Tangier  nabob,  leading  an 
improvisation  about  the  Alhambra,  which  he  closed  with 
a  prophecy  that  the  Crescetit  would  suj^plant  the  Cross 
in  Southern  luir<)])e.  The  music  was  saved  from  mono- 
tone only  by  wild  outbursts  from  members  of  the  or- 
chestra, which  suggested  the  czardis  of  the  Hungarians. 
The  singer's  words  stirred  the  musicians  to  fever-heat, 
and  each  verse  closed  with  shouts  of  "iVr^^a.'" 

"Who  is  he?"  Mrs.  Wentworth  asked  our  dragoman. 


76  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

"Him  not  play  for  money,"  the  turbaned  native  pro- 
tested. "He  mother,  she  work;  she  ver'  reech ;  keep  big' 
shop — work  ver'  hard.  Him  no  work ;  him  sleep  ail 
day  and  play  a'  night.  Him  poet,  great  musician — 
write  many  songs." 

He  was  the  envy  of  every  youngster  in  Tangier  who 
hadn't  a  mother  to  support  him  in  idleness.  The  coffee- 
house is  the  Arab's  club,  and,  when  the  music  is  still, 
the  guests  exchange  gossip  and  scandal  as  do  the  most 
civilized  men  and  women.  In  all  Mohammedan  coun- 
tries, however,  woman  has  no  place  in  conversation 
among  men :  she  is  considered  of  too  slight  importance. 

Several  schools  for  small  children  were  visited  next 
morning,  where  scores  of  boys  were  seen  and  heard  re- 
peating in  dreariest  monotones,  the  Arabic :  "Allah !  Al- 
lah is  great ;  nobody  is  greater  than  Allah."  accompanied 
by  a  constant  swaying  of  the  body.  From  seven  to 
twelve  and  from  one  to  five  o'clock  this  constituted  their 
only  lesson. 

"We  shall  see  the  Arab  again  in  Egypt,  whence  he  set 
out  to  subdue  Western  Europe ;  having  wrested  from 
the  Romans  the  Key  to  the  World,"  said  Mrs.  Went- 
worth  to  Doris,  as  we  stood  on  deck  next  day  while  the 
vessel  steamed  out  of  port.  "As  found  here,  he  is  less 
attractive,  but  certainly  very  curious." 

Belief  is  common  along  the  African  coast  that  Eng- 
land will  reassert  her  claim  to  Morocco,  based  on  its 
gift  to  Charles  H..  as  the  dower  of  Catherine  of  Bra- 
ganza,  though  the  British  abandoned  it  in  1684.  Eng- 
lishmen and  Americans  are  securing  large  tracts  of  land 
near  Tangier,  and  await  a  turn  of  the  political  card. 


A  BOY'S  SCHOOL.  WHERE  THE  CROW- 
ING ARAB  MIND  IS  FED  ON  THE  KORAN 
MANY   HOURS  DAILY 


PROCESSION    OF    WATER-CARRIERS,    UNDER    THE   ACACIA   TREES   AT    ISMAILIYA. 


Chapter  Seven 


True   to  Prophecy 


THE  Barbary  pirates  of  Tarifa,  who  levied  toll 
on  all  ships  that  passed  the  Strait,  are 
dead.  Their  descendants  still  exact  a  liv- 
ing from  the  sea ;  but  the  fisher's  trade 
makes  old  age  surer,  since  piracy  has  fallen  into  dis- 
favor. We  returned  in  safety,  therefore,  to  that  frown- 
ing Rock,  beyond  which  Herodotus  placed  the  region  of 
eternal  night. 

Dinner  and  the  steamer  from  New  York  were  simul- 
taneously announced  that  evening.  The  ship  was  to  take 
coal,  and  would  not  sail  for  Naples  until  noon  next  day. 
Having  letters  to  answer,  I  had  regretfully  declined  Mrs. 
Went  worth's  invitation  to  join  her  at  table,  and  had  gone 
to  my  hotel.  I  learned,  however,  that  Mr.  Blake  came 
ashore  promptly  and  found  his  friends  without  difficulty. 
He  engaged  a  box  at  the  opera  and  the  three  heard  "La 
Traviata,"  svmg  by  an  Italian  company.  Miss  Went- 
worth's   animation     during    the    evening   delighted   her 

78 


A  GROUP  OF  ARAB  REFORMERS  ATTEMPTING 
TO  INTRODUCE  AT  GIBRALTAR  A  SUBSTITUTE 
FOR    BRANDY-AND-SODA 


8o  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

mother.  The  girlish  face  was  a  picture  of  happiness 
in  the  presence  of  Mr.  Blake.  The  young  people  were 
too  busy  contemplating  each  other  to  give  much  attention 
to  the  music;  still,  judging  from  what  I  heard  when  I 
dropped  in  at  the  end  of  the  second  act,  they  missed 
nothing;  for  the  tenor's  notes  were  as  false  as  those  of 
"Jim  the  Penman."  I  saw  Doris  for  the  first  time  in 
evening  dress.  She  looked  charming,  in  a  gown  of 
shimmering  white  satin,  covered  with  filmy  lace. 

After  the  opera,  we  Vv'alked  with  the  ladies  to  their 
hotel,  where  young  Blake  learned  that  the  gates  of  the 
city  are  always  closed  at  eleven  o'clock.  After  the 
first  shock,  he  was  glad  to  remain  ashore,  that  he  might 
assist  the  ladies  in  embarking. 

I  put  "Sir.  Blake  up  at  my  hotel,  but  he  rose  early,  and, 
I  learned  afterward,  sent  a  large  basket  of  flowers  aboard 
ship  to  await  the  object  of  his  affections. 

When  I  contemplated  my  feelings,  I  was  amazed  at 
the  change  two  weeks  had  wrought  in  me.  I  found  my- 
self unexpectedly  associated  with  a  wooing  of  a  highly 
romantic  character,  in  which  the  position  of  an  old  ac- 
quaintance of  the  mother  was  rapidly  changing  to  that  of 
a  father-confessor  to  the  daughter.  I  realized  that 
before  another  week  closed,  the  young  people 
would  be  coming  to  me  for  advice.  A  senti- 
mental element  bad  become  associated  with  my  trip, 
I  had  intended  to  leave  the  ship  at  Naples  and  hasten 
to  Rome ;  but  I  experienced  indescribable  joy  when  Mrs. 
Wentworth  expressed  regret  that  I  was  not  going  with 
them  to  Egypt.  She  could  not  have  asked  me  in  any 
more  delicate  way  to  remain  one  of  the  party.     One  night, 


True  to  Prophecy  8i 

as  we  were  watching-  the  hghts  on  the  coast  of  Sardinia, 
I  suddenly  called  her  "Louise,"  as  in  the  old  days.  Ev- 
ery hour  after  leaving  Gil)raltar,  my  interest  in  the 
woman  I  had  loved  as  a  girl  became  more  definite,  until 
I  felt  her  absence  if  I  did  not  see  her  frequently.     Al- 


yytLyim^yrTrPTr^-ciTOr»a,#^ni^     A^-r 


i- 


Charybdis,  on  the  Sicily  Shore. 


ready  had  she  cast  over  nie  the  spell  of  sympathy,  so 
closely  akin  to  love ;  but  1  have  no  intention  of  recount- 
ing the  emotions  of  a  warmed-over  affection. 

We  made  a  happy  party  in  the  dining-room  of  the 
steamship,  having  an  end  of  a  tal)le  to  ourselves.  That 
trip  to  Naples,  through  the  smooth  w^aters  of  the  Medi- 
terranean, difl  not  contain  a  dull  moment.  While  Mrs. 
Wcntworth  never  relaxed  the  chaperonage  of  her  daugh- 


82  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

ter,  she  manifested  less  and  less  anxiety  to  have  Doris 
by  her  side  when  we  were  together.  By  the  time  Mount 
Vesuvius  rose  out  the  sea,  I  would  have  followed  her  to 
the  end  of  the  earth. 

The  companionship  of  the  young  people  attracted  little 
of  my  attention.  Together  they  studied  guide  books  and 
histories ;  in  the  dull  part  of  every  afternoon,  they'd 
go  to  the  grand  salon,  where  Doris  would  play  and  sing. 
Though  light  in  volume,  her  voice  had  been  thoroughly 
cultivated,  and  it  possessed  rare  sweetness. 

Naples  was  sighted  late  in  the  afternoon  of  the  fourth 
day.  Every  window  on  the  hillside  behind  the  city  was 
aflame  in  the  sunlight.  We  had  seen  the  purple  smoke 
from  \^esuvius  for  several  hours ;  but  not  until  Capri 
was  passed  did  we  behold  the  volcano  itself.  The  for- 
tress of  St.  Elmo,  on  the  sky  line,  admirably  assisted  the 
composition  of  this  wonderful  picture.  It  was  the  sub- 
lime view  of  Naples  and  her  glorious  bay  that  photo- 
graphs and  prints  have  made  so  familiar! 

Our  boat  for  Port  Said  was  due  from  Genoa  the  fol- 
lowing afternoon,  and  we  landed  without  serious  trouble 
at  the  custom-house.  Tobacco,  salt,  liquors,  and  fire- 
arms were  contraband.     We  had  none. 

For  a  stay  of  only  one  night,  our  party  chose  a  hotel 
near  the  wharf  in  preference  to  the  better  establish- 
ments on  the  Corso  Vittorio  Emanuele,  a  noble  terraced 
avenue  that  follows  the  sides  of  the  hills,  as  does  the 
Via  di  Circomvallazione  a  Monte  at  Genoa.  We  heard 
"Rigoletto"  at  the  San  Carlo,  which  disputes  with  La 
Scala,  at  Milan,  possession  of  the  largest  auditorium  in 
the  world,  and  afterward  took  cofifee  in  the  Galleria  Um- 


CITY  OF  MESSINA;  TAKEN  FROM  THE  HEIGHTS 
OF  SICILY,  SHOWING  WIDTH  OF  THE  STRAIT: 
ITALY  IN  THE   BACKGROUND 


84  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

berto,  a  lofty  glass-covered  passage,  shaped  like  a  Greek 
cross.  Its  site  was  a  pest  hole  when  the  cholera  ravaged 
Naples  in  1884.  Deaths  averaged  nine  hundred  a  day 
in  the  houses  that  have  since  been  razed  to  create  this  at- 
tractive feature  of  the  new  city.  Its  only  rival  in  Europe 
is  the  Galleria  X'ittorio  Emanuele  at  Milan. 

Leaving  all  sight-seeing  until  our  return  from  Egypt, 
we  drove  westward  next  day  along  the  Posilipo  road  to 
Pozzuoli  and  the  promontory  beyond. 

We  were  really  glad  to  get  back  aboard  ship  that 
evening,  and  as  the  steamer  was  filled  with  passengers 
bound  for  the  Far  East,  Mr.  Blake  shared  with  me  the 
stateroom  he  had  secured  by  wire  from  Gibraltar. 

After- taking  possession  of  our  quarters,  we  assembled 
on  deck  to  watch  the  lights  of  the  city.  In  no  other  way 
is  the  immensity  of  Naples  so  appreciated.  It  stretches 
along  the  coast  from  the  site  of  buried  Pompeii  to  the 
western  headland,  which  abruptly  ends  the  picture, — a 
length  of  twenty  miles. 

"We  now  begin  the  most  interesting  part  of  our  trip," 
exclaimed  Mrs.  Wentworth,  with  an  enthusiasm  that 
was  contagious.  "This  steamer  carries  us  to  the  east- 
ern extremity  of  the  Mediterranean:  the  Suez  Canal, 
Cairo,  and  all  Egypt  will  be  ours  to  enjoy.  We  shall 
ascend  the  Nile  to  Nubia,  climb  the  Pyramid  of  Cheops 
at  Gizeh ;  descend  into  the  tombs  of  the  Sacred  Bulls  at 
Alemphis.     We  shall  revel  in  antiquity!" 

"Let  us  include  Palestine,"  added  Doris.  "We  may 
never  be  so  near  Jerusalem  again — " 

"That  is  agreed,"  interrupted  Blake. 

"You  have  'The  New  Jerusalem'  in  mind,  I  suppose," 


■■au  rev01ri"-a  favorite  wife  leaving  home  to  shop 
:n  the  muski.  always  accompanied  by  a  boy-child,  if 
she  have  one 


86  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

retorted  Doris.  "If  so,  kindly  speak  for  yourself,  Mr. 
Blake." 

"Stop  quarreling,  children,"  said  Airs.  Wentworth, 
with  affected  seriousness.  "Is  it  agreed  we  go  to  Pales- 
tine? Your  vote  is  necessary,  Mr.  North,"  she  added, 
turning  to  me. 

"That's  one  place  along  the  Mediterranean,  I  haven't 
visited;  let's  go!"  I  promptly  replied. 

"Its  cheapness  appeals  to  me,"  added  Airs.  Went- 
worth, frankly.  "The  expenses  from  Cairo  to  Jerusalem 
going  and  returning,  are  twenty-five  dollars  !"' 

"That's  true,  the  dearest  item  is  the  guide  book  to 
Palestine,"  was  my  comment. 

Thus  did  we  add  another  link  to  the  chain  of  our  des- 
tinies. 

Morning  found  the  Preussen  in  sight  of  the  slumbering 
volcano  of  Stromboli,  which  rises  out  the  sea  in  solitary 
grandeur.  A  small  town,  without  pier  or  breakwater, 
lay  at  its  eastern  base.  In  the  absence  of  information 
in  books,  we  appealed  to  the  captain. 

"Stromboli  is  the  safety  valve  of  A'esuvius,"  said  he. 
"When  one  mountain  is  at  work,  the  other  rests.  As 
the  cone  is  much  lower  on  the  western  side,  the  lava  flows 
out  there,  and  the  safety  of  the  town  is  thus  assured.  At 
night,  a  red  glow  hovers  intermittently  on  the  summit, 
and  Stromboli  is  known  as  'the  lighthouse  of  the  Aledi- 
terranean.'  It  is  no  longer  out  of  the  world,  as  it  has 
a  cable  to  Sicily, — the  mountains  of  which  you  will  soon 
see." 

From   this   gigantic   heap   of   cinders   and   masses   of 


IN  THE  SUEZ  CANAL,  AMID  THE  DESO- 
LATION OF  THE  DESERT;  A  STEAMER 
BOUND  FOR  CHINA 


8S  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

slag,  towering'  to  a  height  of  three  thousand  feet,  our 
course  lay  direct  for  the  Strait  of  Messina. 

A  sand  bar,  extending  a  mile  into  the  sea  and  bearing 
a  beacon,  marked  Charybdis.  On  the  eastern  shore  was 
the  white  city  of  Scylla,  with  its  noble  castle,  built  476 
B.  C. 

"Ulysses  found  the  sirens  over  there" — I  began,  in- 
dicating the  mainland. 

"They  don't  live  at  Scylla  now,"  interjected  Mrs. 
Wentworth.     "Their  probable  address  is  Naples." 

"Perhaps  you're  right ;  but  they  zcere  there  in  Ulys- 
ses' day." 

"I  don't  see  our  courageous  captain  lashing  himself  to 
the  mast,  or  filling  the  ears  of  his  men  with  oakum,"  she 
retorted  saucily.  "He's  passed  here  often,  and  ought  to 
know." 

"Nothing  dangerous  about  that  water,"  commented 
Blake.  "I  once  swam  Hell  Gate,  and  two  years  ago,  I 
crossed  the  Hellespont  at  Abydos  in  much  worse  cur- 
rents.    How  about  sharks?" 

"They  are  the  real  sirens  of  to-day."  answered  the 
second  officer.  "But  sharks  never  eat  live  human  be- 
ings ;  that  is  an  exploded  idea." 

"I'm  afraid  of  them.  I  say,  weren't  Homer  and  Virgil 
terrible  exaggerators  ?  You  couldn't  blame  'the  old  man' 
so  much ;  he  was  blind  and  never  had  been  here.  But 
Virgil  must  have  known  this  place  well,  and  deliberately 
made  a  Munchausen  of  himself." 

Doris  appeared  w^ith  a  copy  of  Pope's  Homer,  which 
she  had  discovered  in  the  ship's  library.     She  read : 


True  to  Prophecy 


89 


"  'The  swiftest  racer  of  the  azure  sea 
Here  fills  her  sails,  and  spreads  her  oars  a-lee; 
Fell  Scylla  rises,  in  her  fury  roars, 
At  once  six  mouths  expands,  at  once  six  men  devours.'  " 


Fresh-water  Canal,  Along  the  Salty  Suez  Waterway. 

"Pope  had  more  courage  than  Ulysses,"  commented 
Doris;  "he  rhymed  'devours'  to  'roars.'  Ikit  listen  to 
the  next  few  lines  : 


"  'Close  by,  a  rock  of  less  enormous  height 

Breaks  the  wild  waves,  and  forms  a  dangerous  strait; 
Beneath,  Charylxlis  holds  her  boisterous  reign 
Midst  roaring  whirlpools,  and  absorbs  the  main ; 


go  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

Thrice  in  her  gulfs  the  boihng  seas  subside, 

Thrice,  'mid  dire  thunders,  she  refunds  the  tide. 
********** 

Ah  !  shun  the  horred  gulf !     By  Scylla  fly, 
'Tis  better  six  to  lose,  than  all  to  die.'  " 

I  recalled  Virgil's  exaggerated  description  in  the  third 
book  of  the  ^neid,  though  I  didn't  attempt  to  quote  it, 
but  I  pointed  out  the  place  where  in  1783  a  part  of 
Monte  Baci,  the  adjacent  headland,  slid  into  the  sea  and 
raised  a  wave  that  engulfed  four  thousand  people. 

Now  fairly  in  the  Strait,  the  pretty  city  of  IMessina, 
stretching  for  several  miles  along  the  shore,  was  stud- 
ied through  a  glass.  Behind,  rose  the  mountains  of 
Sicily, — a  terraced  vineyard.  "Without  Sicily,  Italy  is 
nothing,"  wrote  Goethe.  Hare  says  "it  is  not  a  beauti- 
ful island,  but  a  very  ugly  island  with  a  few  exquisitely 
beautiful  spots."  Slightly  smaller  than  Sardinia,  Sicily 
has  finer  cities  and  more  miles  of  railway.  "The  Strada 
Etnae  of  Catania  is  the  handsomest  street  in  Italy,"  says 
Hare.     Sicily  is  the  flower-garden  of  Europe. 

Between  us  and  the  setting  sun,  a  gigantic  snow- 
crowned  peak,  smoking  more  violently  than  had  Vesu- 
vius, stood  apart  from  cloud-land.  When  night  fell,  its 
top  could  be  seen  for  hours,  made  luminous  by  a  sulphur- 
ous glow.     It  was  /Etna ! 

We  said  good  night  to  Europe. 

The  Mediterranean  was  as  smooth  as  a  pond ;  its  warm 
breezes  were  as  the  breath  of  summer.  On  the  fourth 
day,  Africa  was  descried  at  the  Damietta  mouth  of  the 
Nile.     A  glass  showed  a  group  of  warehouses  and  a  fleet 


CAIRO,  FROM  THE  HEIGHTS  OF  MOKKATAN.  SHOWING 
MOSOUE  OF  MAHOMET  ALI  AND  THE  CITADEL,  WHERE 
THE  MAMELUKES  WERE  KILLED 


92  The  Destiny  of   Doris 

of  sailing  craft.  The  pilot  for  Port  Said  soon  came 
aboard,  and  by  noon  we  were  abreast  the  long  pier  that 
marks  the  entrance  to  the  artificial  harbor.  The  channel 
into  the  canal  was  buoyed.  Every  man  of  us  lifted  his 
hat  to  the  gigantic  statue  of  De  Lesseps  at  the  shore-end 
of  the  pier.  Its  admirable  pose  and  the  welcome  ex- 
tended by  the  right  hand  are  memorable. 

A  small  boat  bore  us  ashore  in  Africa ;  the  custom- 
house officials  accepted  our  statements  that  we  were 
tourists,  and  we  drove  to  a  hotel  to  await  the  afternoon 
train  for  the  capital.  We  made  the  usual  tour  through 
the  Arab  quarter,  equaling  Tangier  in  strange  scenes 
and  foul  odors,  but  lacking  the  picturesque  surround- 
ings. 

A  narrow-gauge  railway  followed  the  bank  of  the 
J?aez  Canal  fifty  miles  to  Ismailiya,  where  we  entered  a 
dining-car  and  rolled  into  the  new  station  at  Cairo  three 
hours  later. 


ee 

^ 

fS^fFi? 

^^5L  liiM' 

H 

p; 

-  -  _ 

'wl^H 

I^^^^H 

1^'- 

lUHi^HH 

THE    NILE   AT   CAIRO,    NEAR    THE    PALACE   O?   THE    KHEDIVE  S    MOTHER. 


Chapter  Eight 


A  False  Oracle 


THE  traveler  to  El  Kaliira,  or  Cairo,  passes  two 
bloody  battle-fields  on  which  the  destiny  of 
the  vassal  kingdom  of  Egypt  was  decided 
The  first  is  Tell-el-Kebir,  where  per- 
ished the  last  hope  of  Egyptian  release  from  the  fast- 
tightening  grip  of  England,  when,  in  1882,  Arabi  Bey, 
propagandist  of  Democracy,  was  crushingly  defeated 
by  Sir  (^arnet  Wolseley.  The  second  is  the  broad  plain 
on  which  Napoleon  overthrew  the  Mamelukes  in  the 
Battle  of  the  Pyramids  (1798),  and  where  he  said:  "If 
I  could  unite  the  Mameluke  horsemen  to  the  French  in- 
fantry, I'd  count  myself  master  of  the  world."  Well 
might  he  have  said  to  his  troops,  "Forty  centuries  look 
down  upon  you ;"  for  the  Pyramids  of  Gizeh,  Abusir,  and 
Sakkara  are  clearly  in  sight. 

Egypt  is  no  longer  "a  dead  nation  in  a  dying  land," 
as  Kingsley  desctibed  her,  but  is  on  the  road  of  ])rogress. 
The  Soudan  has  been  reconquered  by  Kitchener,  and  the 

93 


94  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

Egyptian  flag  fles  over  Khartum.  Practically,  the  cul- 
tivable part  of  Egypt,  barely  exceeding  ii,ooo  square 
miles,  ends  at  x\ssouan.  The  Nile  Valley  above  the 
Delta  is  a  mere  strip  of  arable  land  bordered  on  either 
side  by  a  desert  and  varying  in  width  from  four  miles  at 
Cairo  to  a  few  hundred  yards  at  Assouan.  A  map 
shows  the  valley  to  have  the  form  of  a  great  snake, 
tapering  to  a  slender  tail. 

Cairo,  Egypt's  capital,  is  a  modern  city  and  one  of  the 
finest  in  the  Eastern  hemisphere,  abounding  in  broad, 
well-shaded,  admirably-paved  and  electrically-lighted 
boulevards.  Where  were  formerly  dilapidated  rooker- 
ies, are  now  handsome  business-  and  dwelling-houses. 
Its  hotels  equal  those  of  London  and  Paris  in  comfort  and 
cuisine.  Electric  trams  take  you  to  all  its  suburbs,  even 
to  the  Pyramids  at  Gizeh ;  and  its  two-horse  victorias  are 
better  than  those  of  the  French  capital. 

Ismail  Pasha,  who  created  New  Cairo,  had  passed 
much  of  his  early  life  at  Paris,  and  in  his  enthusiastic 
desire  to  rival  the  Gay  Capital  he  financially  wrecked  his 
country.  He  found  Egypt  with  a  small  debt  and  ex- 
cellent credit,  on  which  he  borrowed  and  squandered 
$500,000,000 — chiefly  obtained  from  Germany,  England, 
and  France.  Then  came  a  day  of  reckoning,  resulting 
in  his  deposition,  the  intrusion  of  an  English  "advisor"  in 
the  person  of  a  Consul-Gcneral,  and,  at  a  later  day,  of 
British  soldiery  under  the  title  of  "The  Army  of  Occupa- 
tion." 

England  no  longer  disguises  her  intention  to  main- 
tain her  troops  in  Egypt. 

Nevertheless,   the   Ismailian   quarter   is   the   glory   of 


NEW  CAIRO;  VIEW  OF  SHEPHEARD'S 
HOTEL  AND  SHOPPING  STREET  IN 
THE  MODERN  CITY 


96  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

Cairo.  The  starting-point  of  these  improvements  is  the 
Ezbekiyeh  Gardens,  twenty  acres  of  verdure  in  the  heart 
of  the  town.  This  park  contains  specimens  of  all  the 
rare  trees  and  shrubs  of  Africa.  The  acacia,  the  white- 
and  date-pahii,  the  banana,  the  large  red-flowered  erbus- 
cus,  and  the  purple,  vine-covered  bougainvillier  are  there. 
On  its  southern  side  is  the  famous  opera  house,  for  the 
opening  of  which  Verdi  was  engaged  to  write  "Aida." 
It  was  only  one  of  Ismail's  extravagances.  A  heroic 
bronze  equestrian  statue  of  Ibrahim  Pasha,  father  of 
Ismail,  stands  in  the  plaza  near  by.  From  the  Ezbe- 
kiyeh Gardens  diverge,  west  and  north,  the  broad  streets 
of  Ismailian  Cairo,  crowded  with  fine  hotels  and  resi- 
dences— the  latter  beautified  by  harem-windows  of 
mouchrebiyeh  w^ood-work. 

As  a  constant  reminder  of  Egypt's  present  servile  po- 
sition, the  headquarters  of  "The  Army  of  Occupation" 
is  on  one  of  the  best  of  the  new  avenues,  Sharia  Kasr- 
en-Nil ;  the  British  Consul-General,  who  is  the  actual 
ruler  of  Egypt,  dwells  there,  and  six  thousand  foreign 
troops  occupy  the  barracks  at  the  Ismailian-end  of  the 
Nile  Bridge.  After  the  opening  of  the  Suez  Canal, 
Cairo  felt  a  strong  French  influence ;  but  when  the  Eng- 
lish Occupation  became  an  assured  permanency,  the 
Greek,  Italian,  and  French  capitalists  were  prompt  to 
recognize  the  new  guarantee  of  stability,  and  began  to 
invest  their  money  in  fine  hotels  and  other  property. 

Outside  the  bazaars,  the  shops  are  few  and  confined 
chiefly  to  the  Sharia  Kamel  Pasha,  on  which  are  Shep- 
heard's  and  the  Contine*ntal  Hotels.  The  streets  present 
a  cosmopolitan  appearance,  with  the  equipages,  automo- 


TOMB  OF  THE  MASSACRED  MAMELUKES.  BEHIND 
THE  CITADEL:  HAVING  SLAUGHTERED  THEM,  THE 
KHEDIVE  BURIED  THEM  IN  SPLENDOR 


98  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

biles,  camel  caravans,  and  donkeys  inextricably  mixed. 

The  native  ladies  always  drive,  preceded  by  one  or 
two  fleet  runners,  gaily  jacketed.  The  women  are  gen- 
erally dressed  in  white,  with  white  gauze  face-coverings ; 
but  on  the  popular  thoroughfares  many  European  and 
American  ladies  are  seen  with  uncovered  faces. 

We  made  a  general  round-up  of  Cairo  the  day  after 
our  arrival.  The  mosques  were  disposed  of  first.  We 
drove  to  the  citadel,  built  by  Saladin  (1166  A.  D.),  and 
desecrated  by  the  massacre  of  480  Mamelukes  (1811)  at 
the  order  of  Mohammed  Ali.  Stains  on  the  marble  floor 
of  the  adjacent  mosque  of  Sultan  Hassan,  indicate  that 
the  Mamelukes  who  escaped  from  the  citadel,  where  they 
had  been  trapped  like  rats,  were  pursued  into  this  house 
of  worship  and  hacked  to  pieces  on  their  knees  before  the 
kaba.  Those  dark-brown  spots  caused  the  same  shud- 
der felt  in  the  death-chamber  of  the  Abencerrages,  ad- 
jacent to  the  Lion  Court  of  the  Alhambra.  Mahomet 
the  Prophet  had  inculcated  treachery  by  procuring  the 
assassination  of  the  Mecca  pilgrims ;  and  Mohammed 
Ali  felt  justified  in  annihilating  the  Mamelukes — already 
humbled  by  Napoleon.  He  made  a  clean  job,  because 
only  one  Mameluke,  Amin  Bey,  escaped, — by  jumping 
from  the  parapet  of  the  castle,  sixty  feet  high  into  the 
moat.  The  victims  were  given  handsome  tombs,  within 
sight  of  the  citadel  in  which  they  had  been  slaughtered ; 
and  there  they  sleep  without  a  name  or  mark  to  dis- 
tinguish chief  from  subaltern. 

Those  tombs  were  to  me  the  most  melancholy  mod- 
ern objects  in  Egypt ! 

When  firmly" established, — by  means  of  a  dastardly  and 


ENTRANCE  TO  THE  MUSKI.  THE  BROADWAY 
OF  THE  ARAB  QUARTER,  WHERE  ARE  THE 
BAZAARS  AND  NATIVE  SHOPS 


loo  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

bloody  crime, — Mohammed  Ali  erected  inside  the  citadel 
a  beautiful,  alabaster-lined  mosque,  with  two  slender  min- 
arets, which  forms  a  part  of  every  picture  of  the  Egyptian 
capital.  Thither  the  present  Khedive,  Abbas  II.  Hilmi, 
great-grandson  of  Ibrahim  Pasha  (who  was  an  adopted 
son  of  Mohammed  Ali),  goes  in  October  of  each  year 
to  pass  a  night  in  prayer,  taking  3,000  troops  as  a  body- 
guard; but  while  in  the  mosque  he  is  as  humble  as  the 
poorest  Arab,  resting  on  a  carpet  and  praying  in  a  niche, 
prepared  for  his  devotions. 

The  Mosque  of  Sultan  Hassan  ( 1356)  is  a  much  finer 
specimen  of  Byzantine  architecture.  Its  splendid  arched 
gateway  has  been  imitated  throughout  the  Moslem 
world. 

The  bazaars  are  tlie  wonder-places  of  old  Cairo. 

A  day  among  them  gave  the  first  keen  impression  of 
Eastern  life.  Every  group  and  shop-front  was  a  pic- 
ture, gay  in  color  or  sombre  in  shade.  At  each  street- 
corner  was  a  surprise,  and  along  each  narrow  lane,  kept 
muddy  by  constant  sprinkling,  was  a  kaleidescopic  pic- 
ture of  figures,  strange  and  curious.  Every  race  of  the 
Eastern  world  was  represented.  A  crowded  thorough- 
fare called  the  Muski — the  Broadway  of  old  Cairo — 
penetrated  the  heart  of  the  bazaar  section.  Pale-faced 
Greek  merchants,  black  Nubians,  shifty-eyed  Persians, 
bare-legged  Egyptian  porters,  copper-colored  Bedouins, 
and  red-faced  Englishmen  jostled  one  another  in  the 
human  tide  that  ebbed  and  flowed.  In  front  of  each 
single-roomed  shop  sat  the  merchant ;  some  were  eager 
for  barter,  with  more  varieties  of  prices  than  a  Baxter 
street  "puller  in;"  others  were  silently  trusting  in  Allah 


IN  THE  BAZAARS  OF  THE  MUSKI;  CROUP 
OF  ARAB  MERCHANTS  AND  ASSISTANTS: 
EACH  BOOTH  A  SHOP 


I02  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

to  bring  them  customers,  but  keen  and  ready  when  a 
victim  arrived.  Crossing  and  recrossing  the  Muski, 
every  branch  of  Eastern  art  was  met.  Competition 
seemed  to  be  the  soul  of  trade ;  for  each  class  of  mer- 
chandise or  artisan  had  its  separate  quarter.  A  noisy 
colony  of  brass-workers  was  succeeded  by  silent  leather- 
sewers  or  curtain-makers.  Turning  a  corner,  we  saw 
ahead  many  rods  of  red  or  yellow  slippers,  each  pair 
thrown  over  a  wire  and  swaying  in  the  wind,  like  two 
^antagonistic  cats  suspended  by  their  tails.  The  sharp- 
pointed,  red  Egyptian  slippers  could  be  bought  as  low 
as  a  shilling  a  pair,  but  the  yellow  Tunisian  shoes  com- 
manded higher  prices.  Carpet-  and  rug-shops  were  ev- 
erywhere. 

Among  this  babel  of  trade  constantly  passed  the  water- 
vender  and  the  coffee-maker.  At  a  signal,  the  latter 
would  stop  and  light  his  lamp,  mix  the  sugar  and  dust- 
like coffee  in  a  small  copper  pot,  heat  and  serve  it,  re- 
ceive his  pay,  and  move  on. 

The   annoyances  to  visitors   have  been   exaggerated, 

"How  shall  we  go  to  the  Pyramids,  to-morrow?"  I 
inquired,  as  we  sat  at  dinner  that  evening. 

''Let  us  ride  there  on  camels."  answered  Doris.  "That 
would  add  a  touch  of  real  romance  to  the  first  visit." 

"The  electric  tram  suits  me,"  volunteered  Mrs.  Went- 
worth. 

"Why  not  take  a  carriage  all  the  way?"  suggested 
Blake. 

I  proposed  a  combination  that  embodied  the  three  sug- 
gestions. 

"We  shall  have  to  drive  across  the  Nile  Bridge,  be- 


A   False  Oracle 


lo- 


calise the  sun  is  too  warm  to  walk.  There  let  us  take 
the  electric  tram  to  the  IMena  House,  where  we  can  hire 
camels,  and  ride  to  the  Sphinx.  Returning  to  the  Great 
Pyramid,  we  shall  climb  it  and — come  back  to  town." 

That  programme  was  followed,  and  the  camel-ride  was 
quite  long  enough  to  satisfy  the  wildest  curiosity. 

Every  preconceived  idea  of  the   Pyramids   was   con- 


Creat  Pyramid,  from  Meha  House,  End  of  Tramway 

firmed,  except  their  color;  for  the  tawny-tan  limestone 
was  unlike  anything  seen  elsewhere.  This  hue  had  not 
been  imparted  by  a  stain,  similar  to  that  upon  the  fillet 
across  the  brow  of  the  Sphinx.  The  vast  mass  of  stone 
disappointed  Miss  Wentworth  and  lilake  until  they  un- 
dertook to  climb  it. 


104  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

The  Sphinx  lay  wallowing  in  a  sandy  hollow  to  the 
eastward  of  the  Great  Pyramid.  Small  in  size, 
it  embodies  the  largest  unsolved  mystery  of  the   Past. 

On  the  fillet,  across  the  brow  of  the  Sphinx,  Mr. 
Blake  found  and  transcribed  an  Arabic  inscription.  To 
our  surprise,  when  deciphered  by  a  Professor  at  the  Uni- 
versity of  Cairo,  the  word  was  "Yerga!"  A  Mameluke 
chieftain,  fleeing  southward  after  the  defeat  by  Napo- 
leon on  July  2 1  St,  1798,  had  climbed  to  the  head  of  the 
sleepless  Monster  of  the  Desert  and  painted  there  his  de- 
fiance and  his  prophecy.  He  was  a  Wizard  of  the  Nile. 
The  Mamelukes  did  indeed  return, — to  be  slaughtered 
like  dogs  by  Mohammed  Ali ;  and  the  Arabs  regained 
their  country  from  the  French  only  to  give  it  to  the  Eng- 
lish ! 

Only  a  small  part  of  the  hybrid  animal  is  exposed — 
the  back,  head,  breast,  and  forepaw.  Nothing  indicates 
that  it  was  a  figure  of  stupendous  size  or  importance. 
The  body  appears  to  be  composed  of  concrete.  The 
mange  of  time  has  efifaced  any  evidence  of  a  hide.  A 
terrible  wound,  as  with  a  mighty  scimiter,  divided  the 
back,  near  the  haunches.  The  assertion  that  the  Sqhinx 
was  cut  from  a  solid  block  of  limestone  does  not  bear  in- 
vestigation ;  the  head  is  composed  of  two  separate  blocks, 
differing  in  hardness,  the  neck  is  of  a  coarse,  sea-pebble 
concrete,  and  small  slabs  of  marble  are  used  to  form  the 
legs  and  paws.  A  keen  regret  is  felt  that  this  monster 
should  be  allowed  to  suffocate  in  the  dust. 

"Cannot  a  man  be  found,  somewhere,  who  will  have 
the  Sphinx  completely  uncovered,  and  build  a  fence  that 
will  keep  out  the  sand?"  exclaimed  Doris. 


GENERAL  VIEW  FROM  EASTWARD  OF  THE 
SPHINX  AND  THREE  PYRAMIDS,  AT  CIZEH, 
SHOWING  THEIR  RELATIVE  POSITIONS 


io6  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

"It  would  be  the  straightest  route  to  fame  ever  trav- 
eled," I  added,  "and  need  not  cost  $10,000." 

"Any  American  railroad  contractor  will  undertake  to 
build  a  wind-break  to  deflect  the  sand  in  another  direc- 
tion," commented  Blake.  "A  fence  of  steel  plates,  be- 
tween the  first  and  second  Pyramids,  would  probably  ac- 
complish the  result." 

As  early  as  the  XVIIIth  Dynasty  (1500  B.  C),  Thut- 
mosis  IV.  partly-dug  out  the  Sphinx,  but  it  Vv^as  first  com- 
pletely excavated  by  Caviglia,  at  a  cost  of  $2,200.  A 
few  thousand  dollars  more  would  have  kept  it  clear  of 
sand  forever. 

The  ascent  and  descent  of  the  Great  Pyramid  was  an 
hour's  hard  work.  All  that  has  been  written  about  the 
ease  attending  its  accomplishment  goes  for  nothing  after 
you  have  finished  the  task.  The  Bedouins  of  Gizeh  are 
a  privileged  class.  They  have  rights  at  the  Pyramid 
that  nobody  can  successfully  dispute.  It  was  a  case  of 
"Pay,  Pay,  Pay!"'  from  start  to  finish. 

"Fine  lady,"  suggested  the  Bedouin  who  was  pulling 
me  up  the  slope,  as  he  nodded  toward  Mrs.  Wentworth. 

"Indeed  she  is,"  I  replied,  with  emphasis. 

"She  good  wife,  me  sure,"  added  the  son  of  the  Sheik, 
who  held  the  other  hand. 

"Very  good,"  I  gasped,  short  of  breath,  joining  the 
endorsement  with  a  hope  near  my  heart. 

"You  daughter  pretty,  like  mother,"  said  the  first  Bed- 
ouin, as  he  dislocated  my  shoulder  by  a  powerful  jerk. 

"Yes,"  I  wheezed,  hardly  caring  whether  or  not  the 
falsehood  about  Doris'  parentage  was  separated  from  the 
truth  about  her  beauty. 


LABORIOUS  TO  CLIMB  IS  THE  BIG  PYRAMID, 
AS  THIS  PHOTOGRAPH  SHOWS.  BECAUSE  THE 
STONE-COURSES  VARY  IN   HEIGHT 


io8  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

"He  love  pretty  girl,"  added  the  Sheik's  son,  pointing- 
to  Blake,  and  smiling  his  approval  as  he  nodded  toward 
Doris. 

"Her  brother,"  I  replied,  deliberately,  to  test  a  sus- 
picion that  I  was  being  cross-examined. 

There  the  subject  rested  until  we  reached  the  well- 
known  resting-place,  about  three-quarters  up  the  Pyra- 
mid. Then  the  fortune-teller  appeared,  drew  a  circle 
in  some  sand,  quartered  it  and  made  twelve  dots  around 
it  for  the  signs  of  the  Zodiac.  He  then  asked  the  ladies 
to  place  coins  in  the  magic  horoscope ;  and  after  my  Bed- 
ouin had  concluded  a  chant  in  Arabic,  the  soothsayer 
began : 

"You  husband  love  you  very  much ;  you  both  children 
proud  of  mother ;  daughter,  she  marry,  have  two  boys ; 
son  not  want  marry,  but  have  sweetheart  in  America. 
You  husband  he  give  big  present." 

"My  husband?"  asked  Mrs.  Wentworth,  annoyed. 
"Look  at  he  kind  face,''  said  the  fortune-teller,  glanc- 
ing upward  at  me.     "See  how  he  smile  with  joy." 
Everybody  gazed  in  my  direction. 
Convulsed  with  laughter,  I  explained  how  I  had  been 
interrogated  during  the  ascent.     Then  we  compared  ex- 
periences, and  found  that  each  of  us  had  been  on  the 
witness-stand. 

Later,  we  ascertained  that  our  dragoman  had  made 
inquiries  at  the  hotel  on  his  own  account,  with  a  view, 
no  doubt,  to  telling  our  fortunes  for  his  personal  profit 
if  we  did  not  ascend  the  Pyramid  and  get  into  the  grasp 
of  the  Bedouins.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  he  was  de- 
lighted at  the  discomfiture  of  the  Sons  of  the  Desert, 


A  False  Oracle  109 

and  told  a  merry  tale  in  the  coffee-houses  of  Cairo  that 
night. 

Escape  from  the  Bedouins  of  Gizeh  is  not  easy,  under 
the  most  favorable  circumstances.  A  tariff  is  fixed  by 
the  Egyptian  Government  for  the  services  rendered ;  but 
at  the  top  of  the  Pyramid  money  was  extorted,  and  after 
the  descent  a  horde  of  candidates  for  bakshish  appeared 
who  had  not  been  seen  before.  At  this  crisis,  our  drago- 
man was  worth  every  piastre  we  paid  him.  He  displayed 
considerable  courage,  and  rescued  us  from  a  crowd  of 
jabbering  natives  that  threatened  to  take  the  clothes  off 
our  backs.  Especially  had  we  been  warned  against  an 
old  scamp  who  called  himself  "Doctor  Alarketa  Twain ;" 
but  I  found  him  at  another  visit,  and  the  acquaintance 
cost  me  ten  shillings. 

The  top  of  the  Great  Pyramid  is  not  a  level  platform ; 
a  few  remaining  blocks  of  a  tier  that  had  been  partly 
removed,  made  excellent  seats.  The  Second  Pyramid 
with  its  smooth-surfaced  top,  seemed  quite  near  at  hand. 
L'nlike  the  view  from  a  mountain-top,  the  face  of  the 
Pyramid  was  so  nearly  the  visual  line  of  sight  when  we 
stood  erect,  that  the  effect  was  as  if  we  gazed  over  a 
precipice.  The  sandy  desert  lay  directly  at  our  feet,  on 
all  sides !  From  no  other  vantage-point  can  be  gained 
a  correct  idea  of  the  way  in  which  this  grandest  grave- 
yard on  earth  was  planned.  Cairo,  with  its'  glittering 
domes  and  its  fairy  mosciue,  was  an  unavoidable  part  of 
the  picture,  but  quite  out  of  keeping.  To  the  south, 
perfect  harmony  of  color  reigned.  In  a  wavy  line, 
through  the  creamy  yellow  of  the  desert,  was  embroidered 
a  silver  thread  that  siiimmcrcd  in  the  sim, — the  Xile ! 


ALL  THAT    IS   LEFT   OF    ONCE-MIGHTY  AND    POPULOUS   MEMPHIS 

Chapter  AHne 
Disappointments  of  a  Mummy 

WHEN  you  take  a  plunge  into  antiquity  and 
want  to  dive  deeply,  go  to  Memphis 
and  its  Campo-Santo,  Sakkara. 

Nearly  everything  else  in  Egypt  is 
young  by  comparison.  At  a  bound,  we  crossed 
a  gulf  that  separates  the  days  of  Cheops  from 
those  of  Unas — a  chasm  of  a  thousand  years ! 
Like  the  philosopher  who  went  into  the  desert 
to  study  the  moods  of  nature,  we  descended  into 
the  grave  and  wrung  therefrom  its  secrets. 

^Memphis  is  so  near  Cairo  that,  had  we  not  been  prop- 
erly instructed,  we  should  have  deferred  our  visit  until 
we  had  gone  up  the  Nile — a  serious  mistake. 

An  early  morning-train  from  the  new  station  car- 
ried us  and  a  well-filled  luncheon  basket  to  Bedrashen. 
where  we  met  the  Sheik  and  engaged  a  donkey  and 
driver  at  ten  piastres  (50  cents)  for  each  member  of  the 
party.     Mounting  at  once,  we  rode  through  planted  fields 

no 


Disappointments  of  a  Mummy  1 1 1 

to  a  village  of  200  inhabitants  on  the  site  of  ancient 
Memphis, — now  only  a  series  of  narrow  and  dirty  streets 
between  mud  walls.  As  late  as  the  twelfth  century,  the 
thoroughfares  of  Memphis  extended  from  Gizeh  on  the 
north,  twelve  miles  to  the  Pyramids  of  Dashur  on  the 
south,  and  its  population  of  1,000,000  people  occupied 
every  foot  of  space  between  the  Nile  and  the  Lybian 
Desert. 

Two  mammoth  statues  of  Rameses  II.  were  recumbent 
amid  a  clump  of  palm  trees, — one  of  granite,  25  feet  in 
length,  and  the  other  of  hmestone,  originally  42  feet 
tall.  After  traversing  a  series  of  palm  groves,  we 
reached  the  open  country,  and  a  mile  across  ploughed 
fields  brought  us  to  the  sandy  foothills  of  Sakkara. 

My  mule  had  such  an  equable  temper  that  I  called  him 
"Socrates." 

The  ladies  were  particularly  delighted  with  this  don- 
key-ride,— the  little  animals  were  so  gentle  and  tractable. 

"If  the  camel  be  the  ship  of  the  desert,"  said  Mrs. 
Wentworth,  stroking  the  neck  of  the  faithful  beast  that 
carried  her,  "you  are  the  cat-boat  of  this  sandy  waste." 

We  spent  that  memorable  day  in  underground  graves. 
We  rode  and  walked  for  hours  through  sand  strewn  with 
bits  of  alabaster,  scales  of  blue-and-white  glazed  earthen- 
ware, and  fragments  of  human  skeletons.  Everything 
that  the  broiling  sun's  heat  could  not  destroy,  had  en- 
sured,— for  rain  hasn't  fallen  since  the  first  stone  of 
Memphis  was  put  in  place! 

"I  get  you  a  skull?"  asked  one  of  the  donkey-driv- 
ers.    "Good  remembrance  of  Sakkara." 


112  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

"No,  indeed,  my  man,"  I  replied,  already  feeling  like 
a  body-snatcher,  as  I  trod  upon  the  desecrated  graves. 

We  entered  the  elaborate  tomb  of  Meri,  containing 
'  thirty-one  rooms.  Its  marble  walls  are  covered  with 
hieroglyphics,  that  recount  the  history  and  domestic  life 
of  the  owner  who  was  one  of  the  independent  kings  of 
Memphis  during  the  civil  strife  between  Northern  and 
Southern  Egypt,  before  the  end  of  the  Vlth  Dynasty 
(2000  B.  C).  The  engravers'  work  is  not  equal  to 
that  found  in  the  tomb  of  Ti,  but  the  pictures  are  more 
numerous  and  of  greater  importance. 

Nothing  more  interesting  than  the  tombs  of  this  vast 
charnel-house  exists  in  Egypt ;  for  the  colors  look  fresh 
and  the  pictures  are  resplendent  with  gilding.  Especial- 
ly is  this  true  of  the  mausoleum  of  Taki  Tib,  exhumed 
only  a  few  days  before  our  arrival. 

We  entered  the  tombs  of  the  Sacred  Bulls,  as  every- 
body does :  they  are  two  minutes'  walk  from  xVIarietti's 
house, — our  halting-place  for  luncheon, — and  consist  of  a 
series  of  twenty-four  large  chambers,  excavated  in  the 
natural  rock  to  the  right  and  left  of  a  wide  passage-way, 
1,200  feet  long.  Each  of  these  alcoves  contains  a  sar- 
cophagus of  polished  black  granite  (thirteen  feet  in 
length,  seven  in  width,  and  eleven  in  height),  weighing 
sixty-five  tons.  Every  coffin-lid  has  been  raised  ;  for  these 
tombs  have  been  known  a  thousand  years.  All  are  in 
place  except  one,  left  with  its  story,  amid  the  darkness 
of  the  corridor. 

Why  was  that  stone  coffin  never  put  in  place?  Did  a 
mutiny  occur? — a  revolt  against  the  deification  of  Bulls? 
— was  there  a  protest  against  a  disgusting  religious  cere- 


BEDRASHEN,  THE  ARAB  VILLAGE  ON  THE 
NILE,  WHENCE  THE  TRIP  TO  MEMPHIS 
AND  SAKKARA  STARTS 


114  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

monial?  To  me  that  abandoned  stone-box  possessed  sol- 
emn significance. 

Possibly  Rameses  II.,  who  created  the  tombs,  became 
ashamed  of  bull-worship — adoration  of  a  God  that  could 
die! 

Doris  lighted  magnesium  wire,  with  which  she  bril- 
liantly illuminated  the  last  hall,  and  secured  a  photograph 
of  the  chamber  containing  the  most  highly-embellished 
sarcophagus. 

The  nine  Pyramids  of  the  Sakkara  group,  though 
smaller  than  Cheops,  are  large  enough  to  give  any  other 
covmtry  than  Egypt  an  archaeological  history.  Egypt- 
ologists agree  that  the  Step  Pyramid  is  the  oldest  monu- 
ment in  the  world.  It  was  finished  seven  hundred  years 
before  the  Pyramids  of  Gizeh  were  begun.  We  rode  to 
it  through  the  bone-strewn  wilderness,  and  descended  a 
low,  sloping,  marble  passage  to  its  sepulchral  chamber. 
Its  picture-adorned  walls  are  an  open  book  to  the  arch- 
ffiologist.     The  colors  on  them  are  bright  and  beautiful. 

Our  candles  disclosed  on  the  ceiling  an  azure  sky — a 
heaven  in  which  stars  of  gold,  cut  as  with  a  die  and  even- 
ly placed,  ceaselessly  passed  the  zenith  of  eternal  night. 
As  we  gazed  in  silent,  solemn  wonderment,  the  long  line 
of  figures  on  the  walls  started  into  life  and  moved  off  to 
the  same  pace  as  the  twinkling  stars  above ! 

Pliny  knew  what  he  was  talking  about  when  he  spoke 
of  "the  dreadful  silence  of  the  desert." 

Worn  out,  dusty,  and  with  minds  overwhelmed  with 
the  weight  of  a  dead  world,  we  repassed  the  village  on 
the  site  of  ancient  Memphis.  There  dwelt  my  donkey- 
driver,  and,  at  his  request,  we  made  a  detour  to  visit  his 


DWELLING-HOUSES  OF  WEALTHY  ARABS  IN 
TOULON  STREET,  CAIRO:  THE  HAREM  WIN- 
DOWS ARE  OF  CARVED  WOODWORK 


ii6  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

home.  Mrs.  Wentworth  and  Doris  were  especially  anx- 
ious to  see  the  family  of  our  attendant.  We  were  taken 
to  a  windowless  mud-hut  in  the  small  court  of  a  nar- 
row, filthy  lane.  Two  wives  and  four  children  consti- 
tuted our  man's  share  of  earthly  blessings.  One  of  the 
women  had  just  returned  from  a  funeral.  She  was 
dressed  in  habiliments  of  deepest  woe  and  her  eyes  were 
red  with  weeping.     The  Sheik  of  the  village  was  dead! 

Nothing  could  exceed  the  squalor  of  that  hut.  Its 
floor  was  of  clay ;  a  fire  of  nameless  fuel  smoldered  in  a 
corner,  and  the  four  copper-hued  children,  nearly  naked, 
were  playing  in  a  heap  of  sand  near  the  door. 

"Here  my  home,"  said  the  donkey-driver  with  pride, 
as  he  motioned  us  to  enter.  We  all  manifested  a  hesi- 
tancy which  he  noticed ;  and,  with  a  touch  of  pathos,  he 
added : 

"I  know  America  and  France;  was  at  Chicago  six 
months,  donkey-driver  at  World's  Fair,  made  much 
money;  at  Paris  for  Exposition,  made  much  money; 
this  not  like  your  home :  but  this  my  country.  I  happy 
here  and  not  want  go  America  or  France — Egypt,  for  me, 
is  best." 

His  love  of  native  land  was  sublime. 

We  were  sorry  not  to  have  had  clothing  to  give  the 
children,  instead  of  money.  The  lower  part  of  the 
women's  faces  was  covered,  but  their  dark  eyes 
were  bright  and  young,  and  the  devotion  shown  to  the 
head  of  the  family  was  marked. 

We  rode  back  to  the  station  in  moody  contemplation 
of  woman's  condition  in  Egypt.  As  we  neared  the  rail- 
way a   freight  train   passed,   and   when   the   locomotive 


Disappointments  of  a  Mummy  1 1 7 


whistled,  my  donkey  began  braying  as  if  he'd  met  a  rival 
worthy  of  his  best  efforts. 

Next  day  was  given  to  the 
Gizeh  Museum,  where  the  se- 
crets of  the  graves  we  had  seen 
at  Sakkara  and  were  to  behold 
on  the  Upper  Nile  were  on 
parade.  There  were  assembled 
hundreds  of  mummies  and  de- 
spoiled sarcophagi.  We  stood 
cheek  by  jowl  with  Rameses 
II.,  mightiest  of  Egyptian 
kings,  who  dug  the  first  Suez 
Canal !  A  feeling  of  indescrib- 
able humiliation  seized  me  as  I 
gazed  upon  the  features  of  this 
diplomatist,  warrior,  and  des- 
pot. How  he  would  have 
scorned  the  sympathy  I  felt  for 
him  in  his  present  plight.  Look 
at  his  solemn  face !  Though  a 
much  older  man  than  Caesar, 
the  resemblance  to  the  Naples 
bust  of  the  great  Roman  is  re- 
markable. I  recalled  the  stela 
in  the  British  Museum,  found 
at  Dekkeh,  in  Nubia,  u  p  o  n 
which  is  set  dtnvn  the  valorous 
deeds  of  Rameses  II.;  also  the 

famous  papyrus  of  Pcntaour,  upon   wliich   is  immortal- 
ized his  single-handed  fight  against  overwhelming  odds 


Mummy  of  King  Rameses  II. 


ii8  The  Destiny  of   Doris 

in  sight  of  his  army  and  that  of  his  foe  under  the  walls 
of  Kades. 

As  he  has  declared  at  Karnak,  this  born  master  of 
men  "fixed  his  frontiers  where  he  pleased."  He  carried 
fire  and  sword  into  Central  Asia  and  Syria,  taking  by 
storm  the  strongholds  of  Ascalon  and  Jerusalem,  if  the 
pylon  at  Thebes  be  correctly  read. 

"What  profanation  to  stare  at  his  shriveled  face,"  said 
Mrs.  Wentworth  with  a  shiver,  as  we  stood  in  the  imme- 
diate presence  of  the  great  ruler. 

"Hope  of  immortality  was  the  cause  of  his  embalm- 
ing," I  explained.  "Like  Christians  and  Aloslems,  Ram- 
eses  believed  his  soul  would  return,  after  long  transmigra- 
tions, to  his  mummy-case,  when,  arising  as  from  sleep, 
he'd  take  up  his  sceptre  and  be  king  again  !" 

"Alas !  when  this  sleeper  awakes,  his  halo  of  earthly 
glory  will  be  hard  to  find,"  was  the  reply.  "Even  a 
mummy  may  have  his  disappointments." 

"But  we  must  remember  that  'Rameses,  King  of  Men,' 
has  waited  only  three  thousand  years  for  a  realization  of 
his  religious  dream,"  interposed  Blake.  "His  belief  has 
not  been  discredited ;  for  what  are  thirty  centuries  in  the 
span  of  eternity?" 

As  we  left  that  repository  of  dead  ambition,  Doris  said, 
with  a  sigh : 

"I  missed  poor  Cleopatra  most  of  all." 

"The  splendid  bronze  image  at  the  head  of  the  main 
stairway,  is  believed  to  be  hers,"  answered  Mrs.  Went- 
worth. 

"I  couldn't  confirm  that,"  was  Doris'  reply.  "I 
asked  one  of  the  savants  of  the  Museum,  who  was  taking 


■■'<;/l' 


GREAT  MONOLITH  AT  HELIOPOLIS.  ABOUT  2a 
FEET  IN  THE  GROUND,  A  WELL  AND  STAIR- 
WAY DESCENDS  TO  ITS  BASE 


I20  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

luncheon  with  a  mummy.     He  listened  with  authority, 
but  observed  a  discreet  silence." 

"Possibly  he  may  have  feared  to  disturb  his  compan- 
ion," rejoined  her  mother. 

Every  man  we  met  wore  the  fez.  It  is  the  great  lev- 
eler,  and  reduces  all  ranks  to  democratic  equality.  The 
Khedive  and  the  humblest  official,  the  merchant  and  the 
street-vendor,  the  prince  and  the  pauper  ahke  wear  the 
same  head  covering  in  sunshine  and  in  rain. 

Perfunctory  sight-seeing  included  a  drive  to  Heliopolis 
and  its  mammoth  obelisk.  The  monolith  ought  to  be 
transported  to  the  capital  and  set  up  in  a  public 
plaza ;  because  it  is  the  largest  known  obelisk.  Its  base 
and  twenty  feet  of  the  shaft  are  below  the  surface 
of  the  ground.  Valuable  records  are  probably  concealed 
under  that  monument. 

What  is  called  "the  \'irgin's  Tree"  was  visited  on 
the  way  back  to  Cairo.  It  is  a  gnarled  and  semi-decayed 
sycamore,  cut  and  broken  by  tourists.  According  to 
tradition,  this  tree  stands  exactly  on  the  site  of  the  shade 
that  sheltered  Mary  and  the  infant  Saviour  during  a 
halt  in  the  flight  from  Herod.  Doris'  photograph  shows 
its  present  condition.  Nearby  is  a  well  at  which  the . 
Holy  Family  drank. 

The  dervishes  devote  Friday  to  worship.  At  the  Mos- 
que of  the  Dancing  Dervishes  we  saw  twelve  fanatic 
priests  go  through  their  laborious  service.  All  were  fair- 
complexioned  men  and  spotlessly  clean  in  their  long  flow- 
ing white  cotton  robes  and  tall  brown  sugar-loaf  hats. 
The  holy  dozen  were  seated  on  the  floor  of  a  circular  en- 
closure.    Service  began  with  the  chanting  of  a  passage 


Disappointments  of  a  Mummy  121 

from  the  Koran,  intoned  by  an  aged  priest  in  a  gallery. 
When  this  was  finished,  the  worshipers  rose  and  walked 
slowly  round  the  circular  arena,  bowing  to  one  another  as 
they  passed  the  kaba,  or  prayer  niche.  At  a  signal,  young 
and  old  began  to  whirl,  and  continued  the  motion  until 
thev   fell    from   exhaustion.     These   men   seemed   to   be 


Virgin's  Tree.  Where  the  Holy  Family  Rested 

earnest,  pious  devotees.  The  same  could  hardly  be  said 
of  the  Howling  Dervishes, — lower  types  of  Mohamme- 
dans. Their  devotions  were  treated  with  derision  by 
many  Arabs  present.  Services  were  held  in  a  court- 
yard, where  fifteen  priests,  squatting  on  dirty  sheep-skins 
placed  upon  a  platform,  uttered  howls  and  grunts  simi- 
lar to  those  of  over-fed  swine.     After  a  time,  they  stood 


122 


The  Destiny  of  Doris 


up,  and,  led  by  one  of  their  number  noted  for  his  endur- 
ance,  threw  their  bodies   forward   until   the   fingers   of 

their  outstretched 
hands  touched  the 
floor,  asthmatically 
wheezing  the  word 
-Hu!"  ("He,  /.  c, 
God).  The  word 
soon  loses  all  sem- 
blance of  its  original 
sound. 

The  course  of 
study  at  the  Univer- 
sity of  Cairo  would 
have  many  attractions 
for  American  college 
boys  who  dislike  the 
drudgery  of  recita- 
tions and  class-room 
discipline.  An  Arab 
student  presents  him- 
self with  a  copy  of 
the  Koran,  a  blanket, 

and  a  loaf  of  bread. 
A  vacant  place  is  assigned  him  on  the  floor-matting  which 
becomes  his  dormitory  while  he  stays.  He  studies  when 
he  pleases,  then  he  sleeps  or  eats,  after  which  he  resumes 
the  quest  for  learning.  This  is  probably  the  oldest  Uni- 
versity in  the  world.  It  was  founded  in  988  A.  D.  and 
was  a  thriving  institution  before  Oxford  opened  its  doors. 
We  matriculated,  by  removing  our  shoes,  and  found 


Near  Shepheards  Hotel,  Cairo 


Disappointments  of  a  Mummy  123 

nearly  5,000  students,  singly  or  in  groups,  engaged  in 
study  or  meditation. 

"No  warfare  between  Science  and  Religion  exists 
here,"  whispered  Doris  to  me.  "I've  been  watching  this 
man.  He  is  pouring  over  a  map  of  the  United  States, 
muttering  meanwhile  'Allah  !  Allah  !  Nobody  is  greater 
than  Allah!'" 


The  Gay,  but  Short-lived  Runners 

"Original  research  is  unknown  to  the  Arab,"  I  ex- 
plained. "They  are  the  mere  recipients  of  knowledge 
that  was  antiquated  when  America  was  discovered. 
Their  minds  are  thus  occupied  with  utterly  dead  themes. 
Religion  is  the  basis  of  all  knowledge,  and  a  year  or  two 
must  be   given   to  the   Koran.     The   student   then   pro- 


124  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

ceeds  to  study  law,  which  is  understood  to  be  'a  com- 
prehension of  the  precepts  of  God  in  relation  to  the  ac- 
tions of  men,  some  of  which  it  is  our  duty  to  perform, 
while  others  are  permitted  or  peremptorily  forbidden.' 
1  am  quoting  the  definition  of  jurisprudence  by  the  great- 
est of  Arabic  thinkers." 

"Let  us  find  how  much  geography  this  man  knows," 
and  without  further  ado.  Doris  seated  herself  beside  the 
student.  When  addressed,  he  replied  courteously  in 
French  that  he  hailed  from  Mokhah,  an  Arabian  city  near 
the  mouth  of  the  Red  Sea,  and  had  been  two  years  in  the 
University.  At  our  request,  he  located  several  of  the 
large  cities  of  North  America ;  but  he  was  unacquainted 
with  the  history  of  his  own  people,  and  he  lacked  the  en- 
thusiasm of  a  real  student. 

"I  have  become  attached  to  Eg}'pt,"  said  Doris,  as  we 
drove  back  to  the  hotel. 

"The  land  and  the  climate  are  delightful,"  commented 
her  mother;  "but  I  cannot  fall  in  love  with  the  Arab. 
His  vanity  consumes  him, — makes  him  morbid.  Not 
content  with  putting  women  out  of  Heaven,  he  thinks 
earth  was  made  for  him  alone, — lucky  man !" 


FAMOUS   STATUE    OF   FATHER    NILE,    WITH    CROCODILE   AND    ICHNEUMON 

Chapter  Ten 

Master  of  His   Fate 

EGYPT  is  the  Nile;  and  the  Nile  is  Eg>Tt— it  is 
a  river  of  gold. 
"Of    course    we    shall    ascend    the     Nile," 
said     Mrs.    Wentvvorth,     firmly.       "To    come 
to  Egypt,  and  not  get  a  correct  idea  of  the  wonderful 
river  that  gives  the  land  its  life-blood  would  be  a  journey 
without  a  purpose." 

"It  is  as  easy  to  travel  from  here  to  Khartum  as  from 
New  York  to  Denver,"  was  Mr.  Blake's  comment.  "I 
have  been  making  inquiries  and  studying  the  time-tables. 
Trains  now  run  daily  to  Assouan,  over  six  hundred  miles 
south, — the  first-class,  round-trip  fare  being  only  $25, 
sleeping-car,  $4  additional.  A  military  road  takes  you 
round  the  First  Cataract  to  Shcllal.  Two  days  on  a 
stern-wheel  boat,  with  plenty  to  eat  and  comfortable 
staterooms,  land  you  at  Wadi  Haifa.  A  train-de-lux, 
with  sleeping-  and  dining-cars,  conveys  you  in  thirtv 
hours  to  Khartum,  at  the  junction    of    the    IHuc    and 

1^5 


126  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

White  Niles.  The  entire  distance  can  be  covered  in  five 
days." 

"Our  plan  should  be  to  go  up  the  river  as  far  as  Philae, 
opposite  Shellal ;  spend  a  day  there,  two  at  Assouan  and 
Elephantine,  and  three  at  Luxor,  Thebes,  and  Karnak," 
insisted  Mrs.  Wentworth. 

Preparations  were  soon  completed.  Nimble  fingers 
prepared  two  traveling-suits  of  khaki  for  the  ladies ;  we 
men  bought  ours  ready-made,  and  the  second  evening 
after  the  trip  was  planned  our  party  occupied  places  on 
the  train  for  Upper  Egypt.  One  of  the  two  staterooms 
had  been  secured  for  Mrs.  Wentworth  and  her  daughter. 

After  night  came  on,  I  went  into  the  smoking  com- 
partment to  enjoy  a  final  cigar.  I  was  soon  followed 
by  Mr.  Blake.  There  was  a  constraint  in  his  manner 
r  had  not  noticed  before.  Though  he  lighted  a  cigar,  he 
could  not  keep  it  afire,  so  preoccupied  was  he  with  his 
thoughts.  Finally,  he  threw  himself  upon  my  gener- 
osity by  saying : 

"My  dear  Mr.  North,  can  you  give  me  any  hint  of  Mrs. 
Wentworth's  feelings  toward  me?" 

We  looked  into  each  other's  eyes  for  a  moment  and  I 
feai  there  was  a  slight  chill  in  my  voice,  as  I  replied, 

"You  mean  Miss  Wentworth's  sentiments,  I  presvune?" 

"I  do  not!"  he  rejoined,  curtly.  "That  is  her  afl^air — 
and  mine.  P)Ut  her  mother  is  quite  reserved  toward  me. 
This  is  a  matter  of  such  vital  importance  that  I  have 
ventured  to  ask  you,  not  because  I  ought  to,  I  suppose, 
but — well,  I  must  know,  that's  all." 

"Yes,  I  understand  the  situation,  and  don't  object  to 
your  inquiry,"   said   I,   hastening  to   relieve  the   young 


A  CALM  ON  THE  NILE,  AT  MINYEH  ;  BOATS 
LADEN  WITH  FRUIT,  TIED  UP  ON  WESTERN 
BANK,  AT  A  PALM  GROVE 


128  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

man's  embarrassment.  "I  would  help  you,  but  I  am  not 
in  the  lady's  confidence  sufficiently  to  give  you  a  posi- 
tive opinion.  Why  don't  you  go  to  Mrs.  Wentworth 
directly?" 

"1  knew  you'd  say  that,  and  I  dislike  to  admit  that  I 
tried  to  have  a  seriovis  talk  with  her,  but  failed. 

"Surely  you  can  make  an  occasion?" 

"Apparently  not;  she  avoids  the  subject,  cleverly, — 
talks  with  a  volubility  quite  unlike  her  at  other  times." 

"Why  don't  you  break  right  into  the  conversation  as 
with  an  axe?"  I  blurted  out,  hardly  comprehending  what 
I  was  saying.     "You  have  a  right  to  know." 

In  my  own  mind,  I  pardoned  the  abruptness  of  this  lan- 
guage. Hadn't  I  lost  the  one  woman  w'ho  could  have 
brightened  my  life, — thrown  away  my  happiness,  mere- 
ly by  allowing  the  empty  prestige  of  a  family-name  to  in- 
tervene between  us?  Had  I  shown  courage  and  deter- 
mination at  the  proper  moment,  Louise  would  have  been 
mine.  I  knew  that  Doris  was  in  love  with  Blake,  and 
that  settled  the  matter  in  my  opinion.  I  was  so  antag- 
onistic to  any  policy  of  evasion  that  kept  these  two  young 
people  apart  that  I  almost  felt  like  counseling  an  elope- 
ment.    But,  in  an  effort  to  dissemble,  I  asked : 

"What  do  you  expect  Mrs.  Wentworth  to  do?  She 
cannot  offer  her  daughter  to  a  man  who  hasn't  courage 
enough  to  demand  her." 

"I  tell  you,  she  will  not  allow  me  to  ask." 

"I  assume  you  are  assured  of  Miss  Wentworth's  feel- 
ings ?" 

"That  is  another  matter;  and  it  concerns  me — princi- 
pally."    There  was  rebellion  in  his  voice. 


Master  of  His  Fate 


129 


"But,  my  dear  sir,  you  have  asked  me  to  counsel  you, 
and  what  is  the  use  of  going  to  a  lawyer  if  you  don't 
state  your  full  case?  However,  I  will  say  that  I  believe 
your  assumption  to  be  correct — though  the  young  lady 
has  not  come  to  me  for  advice." 


A  Caravan  Crossing  the  Nile  at  Sobaz  (Early  Morning) 


I  regretted  my  words  after  they  were  sj^oken.  Man- 
fully did  P>lake  resent  the  im])licali(jn  that  he  had  vio- 
lated a  confidence. 

"You  are  grossly  unjust,  sir,"  he  almost  shouted, 
amid  the  noise  of  the  train.  "I  thought  you  could  help 
me,  but  you  take  advantage  of  my  jiosition  to  rebuke 
me.  You  are  wrong.  My  purpose  in  making  the  in(|uiry 
ought  to  have  been  obvious.     Look  at  the  facts :  I  am 


130  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

a  member  of  Mrs.  Wentworth's  party,  by  mere  courtesy. 
If  by  sufferance  only,  I  have  no  right  to  continue  the  com- 
panionship :  if  my  presence  is  undesired,  I  would  like  to 
feel  sure  of  the  fact.  Isn't  that  justification  enough  for 
my  appeal  to  you  ?" 

By  Osiris !  How  my  heart  warmed  toward  that 
youngster !  He  was  the  right  sort.  While  he  knew  that 
his  special  plea  did  not  deceive  me  in  the  slightest  degree, 
he  made  it  sturdily,  as  if  he  expected  me  to  believe 
him. 

A  man  is  taught  more  by  failure  than  by  success  in  af- 
fairs of  love.  I  had  weighed  every  reason  for  the  loss 
of  my  cause  with  Louise,  and  traced  it  positively  to  one 
occasion  in  which  I  had  tried  to  kiss  her.  I  had  not 
persisted.  Instead  of  taking  her  by  storm,  as  I  should 
have  done,  I  had  affected  an  indifference  that  she  assumed 
to  be  real.  She  never  was  the  same  thereafter,  and  finally 
ceased  to  care  for  me. 

While  I  was  reviewing  all  these  incidents  of  my  life, 
Blake  was  talking.  He  employed  more  force  than  logic, 
and,  by  the  impetuosity  of  his  words,  laid  bare  his  hopes 
and  ambitions  in  life.  Although  Doris'  name  was  not 
mentioned,  he  admitted  his  determination  to  marry,  with 
a  confidence  that  could  not  be  misunderstood.  Tact- 
fully, he  intimated  that  he  had  aimed  to  secure  my  respect 
because  of  a  sincere  hope  that  our  relations  might  some- 
day become  more  closely  identified.  I  affected  not  to  un- 
derstand this  suggestion  that  I  marry  Doris'  mother.  He 
had  probably  read  love  for  Louise  in  my  eyes,  just  as  I 
had  seen  in  his  the  ardor  of  his  passion  for  Doris. 

The  night-air  grew  cold,  and  we  closed  the  shutters 


ATTITUDE  OF  SILENT  PRAYER,  IN  THE  MOSQUE, 
INTERRUPTED  AT  INTERVALS  BY  BOWING  THE 
FOREHEAD  TO  THE  FLOOR 


132  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

and  windows,  to  exclude  the  sand  and  the  chill ;  but  the 
impalpable  dust,  so  intimately  associated  with  the  Afri- 
can desert,  would  find  its  way  into  a  burglar-proof  safe. 
It  occasioned  the  only  discomfort  of  an  otherwise  charm- 
ing trip. 

Blake's  conversation  awakened  so  many  memories,  that 
I  did  not  reckon  time.  Sleep  doesn't  come  when  two  men 
have  a  theme  of  mutual  interest  upon  which  they  delight 
to  hear  themselves  talk. 

My  position  as  advisor  to  a  youngster  just  half  my 
age  was  novel  and  interesting.  It  was  the  first  oppor- 
tunity I  had  ever  enjoyed  to  impart,  under  the  guise  of 
generalities,  my  views  of  life,  revised  by  keen  experience 
and  thoughtful  observation.  Here  was  a  young  man, 
with  an  assured  fortune  which  he  had  only  to  safeguard. 
Marriage  was  a  natural  and  desirable  condition.  I 
braced  him  up  in  every  possible  way. 

"The  moment  you  are  sure  of  the  love  of  the  woman 
you  want  to  make  your  wife,  marry,"  was  my  advice. 
"Don't  temporize.  Remember,  *La  Donna  e  mobile'  " — 
and  I  sang  the  first  line  of  the  aria. 

"Assuming  that  I  am  thus  assured,  how  far  should  a 
prospective  mother-in-law  be  allowed  to  affect  the  nat- 
ural course  of  events?" 

"The  fifth  commandment  probably  applies  to  mothers- 
in-law,  actual  or  prospective.  The  mantle  of  charity 
enshrouds  them.  They  should  be  honored;  but  when 
mutual  love  has  declared  itself  between  a  man  and  a  wo- 
man, entitled  to  wed,  no  power  on  earth  should  keep  them 
apart.  Wooing  is  not  for  laggards.  It  should  be  fierce 
and  impetuous.     A  woman  respects  boldness  in  a  man  in 


Master  of  His  Fate 


133 


the  court  of  love.  She  who  has  to  be  won  by  a  protracted 
seige  is  generally  tickle, — at  least  uncertain  of  her  own 
mind.  It  is  dangerous  to  wed  a  girl  who  thinks  she 
is  the  only  woman  in  the  world!  She  rates  her  charms 
so  highly  that  she  is  ever-watchful  for  new  students 
of  the  rare  in  beauty.  Such  a  woman  nearly  always 
ends  by  taking  pity  on  some  other  man  than  her  hus- 
band, who  tells  her  that  the  begetting  of  angels  is  a 
mvsterv  of  the  skies  and  that  she  is  a  divine  creation. 


The  Same  Plough  Their  Ancestors  Used 

She  falls  into  the  trap  that  her  own  vanity  sets  for  her 
— rather,  I  should  say,  walks  into  it  knowingly." 

"Surely,  you  would  not  have  woman  without  vanity?" 
queried  Blake. 

"No,  indeed;  nor  man.  Vanity  alone  saves  mankind 
from  hopeless  despair.  Think  of  a  whole  race  rising 
every  morning  and  contemplating  itself  with  entire 
serenity.  Looking  into  a  mirror  does  away  with  care. 
The  wise  man  will  encourage  true  vanity  in  his  wife — a 
desire   to   look  better  than  any   other   woman,   because 


134  The  Destiny  ot  Doris 

there  is  competition.  It  is  not  an  easy  task.  He  will 
dress  her  to  the  limit  of  his  means.  In  no  way  can  he 
better  show  his  pride  in  her.  He  will  never  omit  an  op- 
portunity of  displaying  the  delight  he  feels  in  her  sweet 
companionship.  Happy  homes  are  not  all  made  by 
wives." 

"Your  enthusiasm  imparts  itself  to  me,"  exclaimed 
Blake.     "Why  did  you  never  marry  ?" 

It  was  my  turn  to  throw  up  my  hood,  cobra-like ;  but 
looking  at  Blake,  I  saw  he  meant  to  square  accounts  for 
what  he  fancied  had  been  an  impertinence  on  my 
part.     There'fore,  I  retorted, 

"Because  I  was  a  fool.  As  the  blind  reckon  back  to  the 
day  they  lost  their  sight,  so  do  I  date  my  return  to 
reason  from  the  hour  my  eyes  were  opened.  I  have  had 
plenty  of  time  to  recognize  the  fact  that  instead  of  de- 
voting the  best  years  of  my  life  to  building  up  my  club, 
I  might  have  created  a  home  and  been  of  use  to  other 
people.  Now  it  may  be  too  late  for  me,  so  I  wave  the 
danger-signal  to  you." 

"The  Bard  has  said  'There  is  Yet  in  the  word  Here- 
after.' " 

"There's  more  sentiment  than  philosophy,  more  beauty 
than  truth,  in  that  bit  of  phrasing.  Who  can  restore  me 
the  years  that  are  gone?  A  practical  philosophy  de- 
clares that  we  have  'only  one  life  to  live ;'  despite  its 
tautology,  that  dictum  contains  the  kernel  of  my  theory 
of  human  existence."  Rising  to  lower  the  shutters,  I 
added,  "Is  the  moon  up?" 

"No,  'tis  morning!"  exclaimed  Blake. 

A  flood  of  daylight  entered  the  car.     Far  eastward. 


THE  PULPIT  AND  PRAYER  NICHE  IN  THE  GREAT 
MOSQUE,  WHERE  THE  KHEDIVE  COMES  IN 
OCTOBER  AND  PERFORMS  HIS  DEVOTIONS 


136  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

the  glorious  sun,  as  only  seen  in  Africa,  was  bristling 
like  a  golden  porcupine  over  the  tops  of  the  Arabian 
Mountains. 

When  I  went  into  the  small  sitting-room  at  the  end  of 
the  car,  I  found  Miss  Wentworth  studying  the  vast  pan- 
orama spread  out  before  her  on  the  western  side  of  the 
train. 

"The  people  of  this  region  were  busy  before  daylight," 
she  began.  "I  dressed  and  slipped  in  here  to  see  the  sun 
rise,  and  was  well  rewarded  for  my  trouble.  But  I 
found  the  farmers  ahead  of  me ;  camels,  oxen,  men,  and 
women  were  hard  at  work.  Flocks  of  sheep  and  herds 
of  cattle  were  browsing  in  the  fields ;  the  buffalo  cows, 
with  their  inverted  horns,  small  heads,  and  double- 
humped  shoulders,  were  busy  at  the  pumps.  Artificial 
irrigation,  planned  on  a  stupendous  scale,  indicates  the 
control  that  this  thrifty  race  tries  to  exercise  over  the 
precious  Nile-water." 

"It  has  been  a  problem  with  the  Egyptian  for  five 
thousand  years,"  was  my  comment,  "but  the  English 
will  solve  it  when  they  complete  the  series  of  dams  on 
the  UpperNile,  now  contemplated." 

Miss  Wentworth  looked  more  charming  than  usual  in 
a  sage-green  khaki  traveling  gown.  She  was  what  Her- 
rick  would  have  called  "beauty, in  disorder,"  but  pretty  as 
one  of  Greuze's  maidens,  grown  from  a  precocious  co- 
quetry into  the  full  possession  of  wit  and  sense.  She 
was  of  that  age  in  which  a  girl  is  always  attractive.  Ex- 
cusing myself,  I  returned  to  the  compartment  where  I 
had  left  Blake.  I  found  him  intently  watching  the  land- 
scape. 


Master  of  His  Fate 


137 


"The  place  for  you  to  study  the  beautiful  in  nature,  is 
at  the  other  end  of  this  car,"  said  I.  "If  I  were  you, 
I'd  go  there." 

Blake  divined  my  meaning  and  disappeared.  I 
stretched  myself  on  the  cushions  and  forgot  the  past  and 
present. 


View  of  Girgeh,  on  the  Nile,  Where  Much  Foreign  Capital  is 
Invested 


In  the  next  hundred  miles,  the  course  of  the  Nile,  as 
it  wandered  aimlessly  to  and  fro  across  the  luxuriant 
valley,  was  marked  by  clumps  of  bananas  and  palms. 
Cliffs  a  thousand  feet  high  defined  the  Arabian  Moun- 
tains, and  their  water-worn  sides  indicated  the  majesty 
of  the  river  in  a  geologic  period  antedating  the  oldest 
monuments  of  Egypt.     Every  inch  of  this  valley,  which 


138  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

varies  in  width  from  two  miles  to  ten,  is  a  continuous 
village  during  seeding  time  and  harvest. 

The  first  planting  occurs  as  soon  as  the  river  subsides, 
leaving  the  flats  coated  with  the  reddish-brown  sediment, 
which  so  enriches  the  soil,  though  its  smell  is  sicken- 
ing to  European  nostrils.  Farmers  leave  their  homes 
on  the  sterile  hill-sides  and  hurry  into  the  damp  valley 
to  sow  rye,  wheat,  and  barley.  Their  families  follow  as 
soon  as  shelter  from  the  sun  by  day  and  the  cold  winds 
by  night  can  be  prepared.  There  they  remain  until  the 
crops  are  gathered;  then  artificial  irrigation  begins  and 
a  second  harvest  occurs  early  in  April.  The  small  hand- 
sickle  is  the  only  implement  used  in  the  Nile  Valley, 
though  progressive  farmers  on  the  Delta  now  employ 
planting,  cultivating,  harvesting,  and  threshing  machines. 
By  May,  the  land  is  seamed  with  cracks  made  by  the 
heat ;  the  air  is  hot  as  a  furnace,  and  existence  becomes 
intolerable.  When  the  Nile  rises,  in  the  middle  of  June, 
all  the  mud  huts  and  straw  shelters  melt  into  the  sur- 
rounding plain. 

It  is  a  country  where  the  trees  are  leafless  in  summer 
and  abloom  in  winter. 

During  the  afternoon's  ride  from  Luxor  to  Assouan, 
a  panorama  of  temples  passed  before  us.  At  Esneh  and 
Edfu  were  ruins  that  would  be  worth  going  to  Egypt  to 
see,  did  not  those  at  Thebes,  Luxor,  Kamak,  and  Philae 
exist.  At  some  points,  the  Arabian  Mountains  ap- 
proached the  stream  closely,  entailing  serious  difficulties 
in  the  construction  of  the  railway.  The  path  had  been 
blasted  through  the  pinkish  limestone,  and  thousands  of 
tons  of  overhanging  clififs,  which  threatened  to  over- 


ARMED  GUARD  AT  THE  HAREM  DOOR  OF  A 
WEALTHY  ARAB'S  DWELLING  IN  THE  TOULON 
QUARTER  OF  THE   EGYPTIAN   CAPITAL 


140  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

whelm  the  roadway,  had  been  blown  into  the  river  with 
dynamite.  Gorges  were  crossed  on  iron  bridges,  the  rails 
clinging  to  the  cliffs'  sides  directly  over  the  Nile.  At 
Nag  Kaguk  the  steel  line  forsook  the  river-bank  and 
struck  boldly  eastward,  across  nine  miles  of  desert.  A 
bad  half  hour!  Despite  the  heat,  windows  had  to  be 
closed,  because  the  sand  was  flying  in  clouds. 

Assouan,  on  the  Nubian  frontier,  is  a  town  of  5,000 
inhabitants,  representing  every  African  and  European 
race.  The  modern  section  is  hardly  six  years  old,  but 
it  contains  three  large  hotels  and  a  fine  Government 
building.  Direct  telegraphic  communication  exists  with 
Cairo.  The  Arab  quarter  is  behind  a  row  of  shops  that 
overlook  the  river,  and  its  narrow  streets  are  roofed 
against  the  sun — for  rain  hasn't  fallen  there  since  the 
memory  of  man.  Its  bazaars  are  filled  with  wares  from 
the  farthest  Soudan.  The  ethnological  feature  of  this 
frontier-outpost  is  a  camp  of  Bischareens,  where  those 
untamable  children  of  the  desert  are  kept  under  an  un- 
suspected surveillance.  Never  saw  I  such  contrasting 
facial  hideousness  and  physical  beauty.  Many  of  the 
younger  men  might  have  served  as  models  for  the  best  ex- 
amples of  Greek  sculpture.  This  was  the  remnant  of 
a  large  tribe,  the  other  members  of  which  had  to  be 
killed,  much  to  the  regret  of  the  British  commanders, 
because  they  would  not  surrender. 

The  long  narrow  island  of  Elephantine,  once  the  cap- 
ital of  all  Egypt,  faces  Assouan. 

After  dinner,  an  English  military-band  played  in  a 
kiosk  on  the  alameda,  high  above  the  Nile.  The  two 
young  people  walked  on  the  esplanade  under  the  stars. 


A  LADY  OF  THE  "SMART  SET" 
IN  CAIRO'S  "  150"  TAKING  TEA  IN 
HER  BOUDOIR 


142  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

Their  increased   interest  in   each  other   was  unmistak- 
able. 

"What  a  glorious  night!"  exclaimed  Doris.  "Every 
hut  and  tree  on  Elephantine  stands  in  bold  relief  against 
the  sky." 

"It  is  bright  enough  to  read  by  starlight." 
"Did  you  notice  how  the  sun  lingered  over  that  ruined 
temple  at  the  southern  end  of  the  island  ?"  she  asked. 
"Indeed,  I  did ;  it  disappeared  regretfully, — " 
" — but     suddenly,"     interrupted     Miss     Wentworth, 
"Twilight  is  brief  here,  for  the  Tropic  of  Cancer  crosses 
the  river  only  a  few  miles  up-stream.     Listen !     We  are 
having  a  serenade  from  the  river." 

"Yes,  the  frogs  of  Assouan  are  rendering  the  chorus 
from  the  comedy  of  Aristophanes :  he  was  an  Egyptian 
by  adoption,  you  know,"  replied  Blake,  intending  to  fol- 
low with  the  college  shout  from  "The  Frogs" ;  but  Doris, 
quicker  than  he,  gave  it  faultlessly: 

"  'Brekekekex !  Coax,  Coax !  Brekekekex !  Coax,  Coax !'  " 

"Alas !  only  the  noisy  frogs  remain  in  what  was  once 
true  elephant-land,"  she  continued.  "Here  the  pachy- 
derm was  hunted  for  his  skin  and  ivory.  These  frogs 
are  'descended  from  royal  amphibian  ancestry,'  but  they 
do  not  replace  the  artful  crocodile  and  the  guileless  ele- 
phant." 

"I  suppose  the  crocodiles  have  been  killed  and  made 
up  into  wallets,"  said  Blake. 

"I  wonder  who  buys  them?"  said  Doris.  "I  don't 
any  more,  because  they  always  crawl  out  my  pocket  and 
lose  themselves." 


A  WARM  DAY  AT  ASSOUAN,  NEAR 
THE  FIRST  CATARACT  (A  STUDY 
IN  WHITE  LIGHTS) 


144  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

"I  sadly  miss  the  saurian  of  the  Nile,"  said  Blake.     "I 
expected  to  find  him  here.     We  have  the  alligator  in  Flor- 
ida.    The  crocodile  and  his  enemy,  the  ichneumon,  are 
■  associated  with  this  river.     Another  myth,  I  suppose !" 

"The  island  is  real  enough  to  check  disillusionment," 
commented  Doris.  "Here  was  the  key  to  Nubia, — a 
city  of  a  million  people.  The  roar  of  the  First  Cataract 
rang  in  the  ears  of  countless  warriors  who  guarded  this 
defile.  Every  one  of  the  sixty  centuries  in  its  history 
had  its  temples  and  its  altars — " 

"I  say,  Miss  Wentworth,  don't  you  think  we've  had  a 
deal  too  much  of  antiquity  during  the  past  week?" 
Blake  began,  courageously. 

But  when  Doris  turned  to  look  at  him,  he  stammered, 
"The  present  is  so  satisfactory,  I  mean,  that  we  might 
at  least  consider  it." 

"In  Egypt  the  past  is  always  the  present,"  replied 
Doris,  after  the  manner  of  an  oracle.  "I  shall  like  Nu- 
bia, because  it  is  the  land  that  kept  its  secret  longest." 

"Yes,  I  understand ;  and  I  am  thoroughly  in  sym- 
pathy with  your  fancies,  but  I'd  like  to  sit  down  and 
talk  to  you  about — about  ourselves,  for  instance."  Blake 
had  profited  by  my  advice. 

"I  haven't  the  faintest  idea  what  I  could  say  about 
myself,"  added  Doris,  with  provoking  naivete,  "except 
that  I  shouldn't  care  to  study  Egyptology  here  in  sum- 
mer, pleasant  as  the  weather  is  now." 

She  seated  herself  on  a  bench  overlooking  the  mysteri- 
ous, silent  river. 

"I  wouldn't  mind  the  season,  if  we  studied  it  under 
the  same  conditions,"  said  Blake.     "I  haven't  been  able 


A  TURKISH  DANCING  GIRL,  IN  A  MUSIC  HALL 
AT  ASSOUAN.  SHE  IS  FINISHING  THE  PRE- 
LUDE TO  THE  COUCHI-COUCHI 


146  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

to  concentrate  my  thoughts  on  anything  but  you, 
since — " 

-  ''How  curious !"  she  mused,  half-banteringly  and  with 
a  hearty  laugh ;  but  finding  that  Blake,  seating  himself 
beside  her,  attempted  to  place  his  arm  round  her  waist, 
Doris  affected  coyness  and  rose  precipitately,  as  if  to  re- 
turn to  the  hotel. 

Vernon  Blake  had  become  a  man  of  definite  purpose. 
He  was  sure  of  his  own  heart,  and  he  felt  the  moment 
had  come  to  learn  his  fate.  Therefore  he  slipped  his 
arm  resolutely  in  hers  and  led  her  back  to  where  they 
had  been  seated,  saying  abruptly, 

"Oh,  Doris,  you  must  listen !  Don't  you  know,  can't 
you  see,  that  to  travel  in  this  strange  land  with  you 
makes  me  infinitely  happy  ?" 

"Perhaps  it's  the  romantic  surroundings,  Mr.  Blake? 
This  place  is  so  weirdly  beautiful." 

They  were  in  the  pretty  parklet  on  the  banks  of  the 
Nile.     Palm  trees  cast  broad  shadows  over  them. 

"Not  at  all;  you  have  inspired  this  joy  in  my  heart — 
a  sweet  tender  dream,  from  which  I  never  want  to 
awaken.     Doris,  I  love  you !" 

"I  have  had  a  suspicion  of  the  fact,  Mr.  Blake,"  she 
replied,  with  an  assumed  calmness,  as  she  turned  her 
girlish  face  toward  his,  telling  him  her  love  with  her 
eyes  in  language  more  fervent  than  speech.  Blake  seized 
her  trembling  hands : 

"I  have  come  six  thousand  miles,  Doris,  to  ask  you  to 
be  my  wife." 

In  another  instant,  shielded  chiefly  by  the  impetuous 
ardor  of  his  act,  Vernon  Blake  had  taken  her  in  his 


Master  oi  His  Fate 


147 


arms  and  kissed  her!  And  she,  thoui^h  endowed 
with  the  strength  of  an  athlete,  gloried  in  the  tradi-. 
tional  weakness  of  her  sex  which  excnsed  acciniescence. 
The  stars  alone  saw ;  and  if  any  ears  heard,  the  words 
that  were  nttered  conveyed  no  meaning. 


Croup  of  Dancing  Dervishes  at  Cairo 

Doris  Hed  jirecipitately  across  the  alamcda  into  the 
hotel  and  to  her  room.  There  Mrs.  Wentworth  found 
her  in  an  ecstacy  of  joy. 

Blake's  address  that  night  was  Elysium. 


MR.    NORTH   AND   TWO   SOUDANESE    ON    A   TRAM-CAR,    AT   THE    GREAT    DAM 


Chapter  Eleven 


On  the  Sacred  Isle 


(•(. 


I 


MSHI!     Gladstone!" 
"Basta !     McKinley !" 

Donkey-boys  and  dragomen  congregated  in 
front  of  the  hotel  as  soon  as  the  snn  was  up, 
and  engaged  in  a  general  row.  They  waited  with  impa- 
tience for  us  to  breakfast;  afterward,  wearing  our 
cork  helmets,  we  mounted  and  took  a  temporary  leave  of 
Egypt. 

The  broad  road  to  the  First  Cataract  leads  through  a 
series  of  graveyards.  Hundreds  of  natives  were  met, 
hurrying  from  their  huts  among  the  hills  to  Assouan, 
where  they  found  employment  at  honest  labor  or  beg- 
ging. The  scene  recalled  Gibraltar  and  the  drove  of 
Spanish  workmen  crossing  the  Neutral  Ground. 

Above  the  First  Cataract  is  the  great  Nile  dam,  a  mile 
and  a  quarter  long,  which  places  a  wall  lOO  feet  high  be- 
tween the  lower  river  and  its  vast  Central  African  wa- 
tershed.    A    reservoir    will    be    created    of    a    hundred 


On  the  Sacred  Isle 


149 


square  miles,  wherein  will  be  retained  the  water 
for  use  as  needed  in  the  valley  between  Assouan  and 
Cairo.  Heretofore,  the  Nile  ran  aflood  for  three  months. 
All  the  resources  of  the  watershed  were  exhausted,  and 
the  arable  land  was  saved  from  utter  drought  only  by 
artificial  irrigation, — the  water  pumped  from  the  river. 
The  barrage  is  constructed  of  the  red  Assouan  granite, 
taken  from  two  hundred  quarries.  Eighty  sluices  enable 
the  engineers  to  regulate  the  flow  of  the  Nile  to  the 
nicety  of  a  gallon.  "Water  and  prosperity  go  hand  in 
hand,"  is  an  Egyptian  maxim.  This  great  undertaking 
furnished  work  for 
15,000  natives  for 
four  years,  and  its 
final  cost  will  ex- 
c  e  e  d  $10,000,000; 
but  the  money  will 
have  been  well 
spent,  because  a 
very  large  "Hood- 
crop  area"  in  I'p- 
per  Egypt  will  be 
endowed  with  per- 
ennial water,  and  a 
third  cro])  will  be 
added  to  most  of 
the  Nile  Valley ! 
Lord  Milner  esti- 
mates the  direct 

gain   in   increased  land-tax   at  $1,900,000  a  year,   and 
that  the  value  of  reclaimed  Government  lands  will  be 


An  Egyptian  Beauty,  Seeing  Life  on  the 
Nubian  Frontier 


150  The  Destiny  oi  Doris 

augmented  by  $5,000,000.  Not  only  will  the  entire 
agricultural  system  of  Egypt  be  revolutionized,  but 
the  use  of  machinery  will  become  imperative  if  three 
crops  are  to  be  planted,  grown,  and  harvested  an- 
nually. The  forked-stick  plow  and  the  hand-sickle 
must  give  way  to  the  most  improved  modern  imple- 
ments. The  scheme  has  been  financed  in  such  a  man- 
ner that  the  Egyptian  Government  has  thirty  years  in 
which  to  pay  for  the  work. 

England  will  do  for  Egypt  more  than  she  has  done 
for  India !  Another  dam  will  be  constructed  above  the 
Second  Cataract,  at  Wadi  Halta,.  creating  an  additional 
storage-reservoir.  Not  a  gallon  of  Nile  water  will  es- 
cape without  rendering  service  to  Egypt ! 

After  we  had  watched  the  native  boys  diving  and 
swimming  the  rapids,  we  compared  opinions. 

"What  do  you  think  of  the  Cataract?"  Mrs.  Went- 
worth  was  asked. 

"Reminds  me  of  the  Mohawk  at  Little  Falls,"  she  an- 
sv.'ered. 

"Lucian,  the  Greek  Gulliver,  misled  posterity  by  de- 
scribing this  rapid  as  an  area  of  awe-inspiring  whirlpools 
and  cataracts,"  volunteered  Mr.  Blake.  "He  was  an  apt 
pupil  of  Homer." 

Doris  took  some  photographs.  Afterward,  we  set  out, 
in  the  torrid  heat,  for  Philse.  The  road  soon  passed  into 
a  weird  and  spooky  region.  Great  white  boulders,  piled 
in  cairns  twenty  to  forty  feet  high,  were  stained  black  in 
spots  as  by  the  hands  of  man.  The  ladies  suffered  dur- 
ing that  brief  journey  over  the  burning-hot  sands.  The 
mule-drivers  were  barefoot. 


On  the  Sacred  Isle 


151 


"Vm  sorry  for  my  poor  donkey-boy,"  said  Doris,  sym- 
pathetically. 

"That  he  business,"  rejoined  the  dragoman,  curtly. 
The  boy  trotted  on,  panting  like  a  howling  dervish,  un- 
conscious of  his  gentle  mistress'  solicitude.  The  Arab 
is  kind  to  animals,  because  so  enjoined  by  the  Koran. 
His  fellow-man  he  cares  nothing  about. 


■■^;,ii*CA*-, 


Western  Channel  of  the  First  Cataract,  Above  the  Great  Barrage 


After  a  stay  in  Africa,  one  could  write  a  book  on  the 
donkey  and  his  driver.  They  are  the  real  workers  in  the 
land. 

Shellal  is  a  nest  of  mud  huts,  huddled  in  the  sand  un- 
der a  clump  of  palms.  It  was  a  busy  place  that  day, 
because  two  boats  had  arrived  from  Wadi  Haifa.    Across 


152  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

the  narrow  arm  of  the  river,  the  Sacred  Isle  was  plainly 
visible. 

Philfe  is  the  pearl  of  the  Nile !  Not  so  large  as  a 
city  block,  the  island  contains  more  of  the  history  of 
Egypt  than  can  be  foimd  elsewhere  between  the  Medi- 
terranean and  the  Victoria  Lake.  Every  age,  beginning 
with  the  IVth  Dynasty  (3000  B.  C),  and  ending  with  the 
Roman  Occupation,  has  left  its  stamp.  The  ancient 
Egyptian  who  wished  to  take  an  oath  that  would  bind 
him  and  his  soul  for  eternity,  always  swore  "By  Him 
who  sleeps  in  Philae!"  The  modem  Arabs  attach  in- 
terest to  the  island  as  the  scene  of  a  famous  tale  in  "The 
Thousand  and  One  Nights," — extending  from  the  371st 
to  the  380th  nights,  the  Burton  Edition.  Therein  is 
recounted  the  gratitude  of  a  crocodile  and  a  dove  for 
the  kindness  shown  the  animal  kingdom  by  the  lover  of 
a  princess  immured  in  this  Temple  of  Isis. 

We  hired  a  boat  and  crossed  the  rapid  stream  to  the 
Sacred  Isle.  Doris  and  I  climbed  a  flight  of  steps  from 
the  riverside  to  the  Kiosk, — the  chief  decorative  feature 
of  the  island,  though  its  lily-shaped  capitals  date  only 
from  Trajan's  day. 

"  'This  is  the  most  perfect  structure  we  shall  see  on 
the  Nile,"  I  read  aloud  to  Doris  from  the  guide  book, 
"and  stands  to-day  just  as  it  was  left,  uncompleted.  Here 
the  Romans  took  their  tea.'  " 

When  Mrs.  Wentworth  and  PUake  joined  us,  we  fol- 
lowed a  path  through  the  gate  of  Philadelphus  and 
emerged  before  the  first  pylon  of  the  Temple  of  Isis, 
familiar  to  every  student  of  antiquity.  This  sacred  build- 
ing antedated  the  introduction  of  the  arch;  its  massive 


SACRED  ISLE  OF  PHlLy€:  ITS  RUINS  SUMMARIZE  THE 
HISTORY  OF  EGYPT.  TEMPLE  OF  ISIS  IN  THE  FORE- 
GROUND, THE  KIOSK  ON  THE  RIGHT 


154  The  Destiny  of   Doris 

square  doors  have  no  rivals,  except  at  Karnak.  Enter- 
ing the  fore-court,  we  passed  up  a  slight  ascent  to  the 
door  of  the  second  pylon  and  into  the  Hypostyle  Hall, 
the  most  perfectly  preserved  ruin  in  Egypt.  Here  the 
clock  of  time  has  stopped!  The  paint  on  the  decorated 
ceiling  is  as  fresh  as  if  penciled  yesterday.  The  lotus- 
shaped  capitals  of  its  columns,  which  we  seem  to  have 
known  since  childhood,  are  aglow  with  the  brightest 
pigments.  A  clever  hand  wrought  these  wonders  of 
stonework.  By  exaggerating  the  length  of  the  capitals 
and  giving  the  columns  excessive  girth,  the  wily  architect 
deceived  the  eye  as  to  the  height  of  the  apartment. 
Without  these  artifices,  the  room  would  have  appeared 
crowded  with  these  huge  columns,  and  the  ceiling,  formed 
of  immense  slabs  of  cut  stone,  would  have  made  the  air 
heavy  with  its  weight. 

"How  does  this  temple  impress  you?"  I  asked,  turn- 
ing to  the  ladies  of  our  party. 

"I  am  overcome  with  the  grandeur  of  this  hall,"  ]\rrs. 
Wentworth  found  voice  to  say.  "How  sad  that  the  name 
of  the  Michael  Angelo  of  Philae  should  have  been  lost 
to  posterity!" 

"The  tender  half-tones  of  the  Alhambra,  which  aroused 
so  much  enthusiasm  in  me,  must  be  forgotten  when 
looking  at  the  coral-pinks,  Nile-greens,  and  turquois-blues 
I  find  here,"  said  Doris,  a  tone  of  regret  in  her  voice. 

"These  walls  contain  hundreds  of  square  yards  of 
hieroglyphic  inscriptions,  colored  pictures,  and  has  re- 
liefs," said  Mr.  Blake,  who  had  been  exploring  the  re- 
cesses of  the  temple  on  his  own  account.  "Here  the 
chronology  of  a  dead  religion  and  an  absolutely  extinct 


On  the  Sacred  Isle 


155 


civilization !  Like  tlie  Rosetta  Stone,  found  near  Alex- 
andria, here  is  the  key  to  the  cuneiform  and  hieroglyphic 
inscriptions  of  Egypt.  This  temple  is  a  diary  of  the 
past  twenty-five  centuries,  for  the  hieroglyphics  are  sup- 
plemented by  Greek  and  Roman  inscriptions.  The 
French  add  a  record  of  the  visit  of  a  portion  of  Marshal 


Shhllal,  as  Seen  from  Philae  ;  a  Wretched  Arab  Village,  Ter- 
minus OF  THE  Military  Railway,  and  Starting-point 
BY  Boat  for  Wadi  Halfa 


Desaix's  army, — the  immortal  Desaix,  killed  at  Marengo 
after  he  regained  a  battle  that  was  lost." 

Where  nobody  comes  to-day  to  worship,  the  altars  of 
Isis  stood  ready  for  service  at  an  appointed  hour.  We 
assembled  in  the  inner  sanctuary,  about  the  sacrificial 
stone,  that,  in  the  half-darkness,  looked  moist  with  the 
blood  of  victims. 


156  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

"When  Egypt  was  Christianized  (400  A.  D.),  the 
edict  of  Theodositis  of  Constantinople  was  ignored  at 
Philje,"  began  Doris,  who  had  informed  herself  upon  the 
history  of  the  place.  "Though  forbidden,  under  the  pain 
of  death,  to  perform  the  sacred  rites,  priests  of  Isis  and 
Osiris  walked  these  stately  halls  and  offered  their  sacri- 
fices until  the  hand  of  the  conqueror  smote  them.  Many 
died  around  this  altar ;  others  were  thrown  to  the  croco- 
diles, with  which  the  river  then  swarmed ;  temples  were 
plundered,  statues  and  obelisks  were  destroyed,  and  pic- 
tures on  these  walls  were  often  wantonly  defaced.  The 
same  spirit  of  intolerance  was  shown  that  we  shall  see 
in  Rome.  For  centuries  Philae  was  overrun  by  all 
classes  of  religious  fanatics;  beautiful  structures  of  an- 
tiquity were  demolished  to  make  room  for  adobe  sanc- 
tuaries. A  mud  chapel  was  actually  erected  on  the  roof 
of  this  very  temple!  PhiU-e  ceased  to  be  Christian  dur- 
ing the  Middle  Ages,  and  despoilment  ended." 

"Mahomet  has  supplanted  the  ancient  gods,"  I  said, 
when  we  had  returned  to  the  Hypostyle  Hall;  for  the 
Arab  custodian  of  the  temple  that  moment  piously  pros- 
trated himself,  facing  the  northeast  (the  direction  of 
Mecca),  and  bent  his  forehead  in  humility  to  the  pave- 
ment. His  was  a  prayer  to  the  God  of  Moses  and  Ma- 
homet. By  that  act,  he  repudiated  the  worship  of  beasts 
and  stone ! 

"Great  is  Allah!"  murmured  our  dragoman,  with  the 
utmost  reverence. 

From  the  stone  roof  of  the  Temple  of  Isis,  Doris  took 
a  photograph  of  the  village  of  Shellal,  across  the  Nile. 
We  strolled  through  an  avenue  of  columns  to  an  obe- 


MR.  NORTH  AT  THE  GATEWAY  OF  THE  FIRST  PYLON, 
TEMPLE  OF  ISIS,  ATTENDED  BY  HIS  DRAGOMAN  AND 
THE  ARAB  GUARDIAN   OF   PHILyt 


158 


The  Destiny  of  Doris 


lisk,  at  the  southern  end  of  the  island,  and  looked  up 
the  river  toward  Wadi  Haifa. 

The  Arab  guardian  of  Philge,  white-robed,  as  his  re- 
ligion commanded,  bade  us  adieu  at  the  temple-gate, 
received  his  fee,  and  sought  his  solitary  abode  under  a 
corner  of  the  sanctuary.  At  night,  he  is  the  only  living 
creature  on  the  island.  There  he  has  spent  thirty  years, 
— a  good  Mohammedan,  and  in  contemptuous  ignorance 
of  the  ancient  Egyptian  religions, 

"Memory  is  the  food  of  life,"  said  Mrs.  Wentworth, 


Second  Pylon,  Temple  of  Isis,    Philab 

as  our  boat  pushed  ofif   from  the  shore.     "I   shall  live 
upon  this  day's  recollections  for  months." 
"  'By  Him  who  sleeps  in  Philae ;'  so  shall  I." 


GRANDEST  GROUP  OF  RUINS  ON  EARTH  :  THE  TEMPLE  AT  LUXOR 


Chapter  Twelve 


In  a  Temple  Bazaar 


AT  Assouan,  we  missed  the  flowers  and  the  ver- 
dure that  make  Lower  Egypt  a  land  of  de- 
Hght  to  the  eye.     Not  a  blossoming  plant 
exists.      The     air     is     too     dry,     and     the 
heat  of  the  day  too  torrid.     Dates  are  the  only  fruit ; 
oranges  are  brought  from  the  orchards  in  the  Delta. 

A  surprising  change  of  temperature  occurs  after  dark ; 
the  intolerable  heat  of  the  ride  to  Philre  was  succeeded 
after  our  return  by  a  fall  in  the  thermometer  of  22  de- 
grees.    I  slept  under  double  blankets. 

Awakened  by  the  shouts  of  water-carriers  filling  their 
pigskins  in  the  river,  Doris  opened  her  window  and 
gazed  across  the  placid  Nile  to  the.  sun-lighted  shores  of 
Elephantine.  \\'ith  her  camera,  she  preserved  the  scene. 
Seven  o'clock  had  struck,  the  orb  of  day  was  ablaze,  and 
the  town  was  astir  with  human  life. 

After  breakfast,  a  boat  carried  us  to  the  Elephant  Isl- 
and,  once   the   treasure-house    where    was   hoarded   the 

159 


i6o  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

ivory  brought  from  the  Upper  Nile,  Here  was  the 
metropoHs  of  Egypt  during  the  Vlth  Dynasty.  Its  pots- 
herds gave  to  Egyptologists  the  details  of  the  Greek  and 
Roman  Occupations.  Its  tablets  have  served  as  glos- 
saries for  all  the  languages  of  Upper  Egypt.  A  roll 
containing  parts  of  Book  XVIII  of  the  Iliad,  discov- 
ered on  this  island,  is  in  the  Louvre  at  Paris,  and  the 
British  Museum  has  been  enriched  by  its  treasures. 

Two  wretched  villages,  in  which  only  the  languages 
of  Nubia  are  spoken,  remain  of  what  was  once  a  great 
city.  Across  the  main  branch  of  the  Nile  the  eternal 
sands  of  the  Lybian  Desert  come  to  the  water's  edge. 

lycaving  Elephantine  at  a  quay  built  by  the  Romans, 
we  hurried  to  Assouan,  caught  a  train  for  Luxor,  and  in 
six  hours  were  comfortably  installed  at  the  real  temple- 
bazaar  of  Egypt.  Our  minds  were  still  busy  w'ith  the 
wonders  of  Philae ;  but  Luxor,  Karnak,  and  Thebes  all 
in  a  group  never  can  suffer  by  comparison  with  any  other 
ruins. 

"How  incredible  that  we  are  actually  here,"  mused  Mrs. 
Wentworth,  as  we  sat  taking  our  coffee  next  morning 
under  a  bower  of  orchids,  hedged  by  a  row  of  palms. 
"The  railway  has  made  Luxor  quite  accessible  to  New 
York.  This  place  has  always  seemed  so  far  away — so 
much  imagination  and  so  little  fact — that  I  have  even 
doubted  the  photographs  of  these  stupendous  temples." 

"The  camera  has  not  exaggerated,"  commented  Mr. 
Blake.  "I  rose  early  and  walked  to  the  Temple  of 
Luxor,  less  than  half  a  mile  from  where  we  sit.  I  as- 
sure you,  your  wildest  expectations  will  be  realized." 


ISLAND  OF  ELEPHANTINE,  ONCE  SITE  OF  A 
MIGHTY  CITY.  TAKEN  BY  DORIS  FROM  HER 
HOTEL  WINDOW  AT  EARLY    MORNING 


1 62  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

Whole  libraries  have  been  written  on  the  grandeur  of 
the  Egyptian  remains  in  this  part  of  the  Nile  Valley. 

All  the  ruins  within  donkey-ride  of  Luxor  can  be  seen 
in  two  or  three  days ;  but  to  have  explored  old  Thebes 
must  have  required  as  much  time  as  would  be  needed 
to  examine  modern  London.  Like  the  British  capital, 
Thebes  was  built  on  two  sides  of  a  river.  The  circimi- 
ference  of  its  walls  must  have  exceeded  fifty  miles. 
Homer  thus  refers  to  its  size : 

"The  hundred-gated  Thebes,   where  twice  ten  score  in 

martial  state 
Of  valiant  men  with  steeds  and  cars  march  through  each 

massy  gate." 

Thebes  had  half  a  million  dwelling-houses  and  vast 
public  squares  about  its  palaces.  Long  vistas  of  mam- 
moth sphinxes  formed  the  approaches  of  its  temples, 
Whether  Thebes  was  Karnak  or  Karnak  Thebes,  or 
whether  these  names  were  given  to  the  same  great  city 
at  different  stages  of  its  history,  is  unimportant  when 
you  visit  them.  Thebes  represents  the  resplendent  mid- 
dle-period of  Egyptian  art.  Everything  antedating  its 
transcendant  supremacy  led  up  to  Thebes,  and  its  de- 
cadence marked  the  decline  of  all  Egypt,  under  count- 
less "occupations,"  until  the  recent  hour  in  which  Eng- 
land undertook  the  task  of  its  redemption.  "Thebes" 
is  a  word  that  represents  the  culmination  of  everything 
Egyptian — a  satisfaction-piece  for  the  mortgage  that 
the  Pyramids  issue  upon  the  credulity  of  the  visitor  to 
Egypt.    Its  art,  unlike  any  other ;  its  architecture,  gigan- 


GRANDEST  ARCHITECTURAL  WONDER  OF  THE 
WORLD-THE  KARNAK  GATEWAY:  WITH  ITS 
RECORDS   OF   HUMAN   ACHIEVEMENT 


1 64  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

tic  to  the  verge  of  a  nightmare,  and  at  variance  with 
every  rule  of  Greece  and  Rome ;  reaches  its  subUmity  at 
Thebes, — speaking  of  Karnak  as  part  of  Thebes,  whether 
historically  correct  or  not.  We  study  art  by  the  mile  at 
Versailles.  At  Thebes,  we  delve  into  architecture  of 
such  mammoth  proportions  as  to  overcome  the  senses 
and  cause  a  human  atom  to  sigh  for  the  thousand  eyes 
of  those  prehistoric  creatures  provided  with  visual  or- 
gans far  in  excess  of  their  opportunities.  Only  Egypt- 
ologists have  full  license  to  describe  this  sacred  grove 
where  deity  was  enthroned  as  nowhere  else — where 
many  gods  did  walk!  Writers  who  essay  this  theme 
should  be  men  who  have  consecrated  their  lives  to  a 
study  of  every  phase  of  the  human  heart — lost  am- 
bition, dead  hope,  patience  that  endured,  courage  that 
never  wavered,  hardship  that  chilled  the  blood,  cruelty 
indescribable,  and  religion  attaining  the  sublimest  ideals 
of  fanatic  beauty. 

To  understand  the  lay  of  the  land,  Luxor  must  be 
regarded  as  a  composite  whole,  which  includes  Karnak 
and  Thebes.  Luxor  is  the  name  of  the  modern  town,  and 
a  radius  of  three  miles,  struck  from  its  principal  hotel,  in- 
cludes all  places  of  interest  on  both  sides  of  the  Nile. 
Inscribe  a  circle  and  draw  a  waved  line  through  it, 
slightly  to  the  left  of  the  center,  to  represent  the  Nile. 
Then  locate  the  monuments.  On  the  right  bank  looms 
the  Temple  of  Luxor,  and  to  the  north  are  the  stupend- 
ous ruins  called  Karnak.  Between  and  far  beyond  these 
monuments  once  stretched  the  streets  of  ancient  Thebes. 
On  the  west  bank  are  the  mortuary  temples  and  the  Ne- 
cropolis,  or   rock-hewn   Campo-Santo.     On   the   moun- 


In  a  Temple  Bazaar 


i6: 


tain-side  are  the  despoiled  Tombs  of  the  Kings,  and  in 
the  valley  sit  the  lonely  Colossi  of  Memnon. 

Nothing  that  the  human  hand  has  ever  fashioned  ex- 
actly equals  the  Great  Mall  at  Karnak.  Examples 
might  be  cited  that 
are  more  finitely  ex- 
quisite,— such  as  the 
Taj  at  Agra,  the  Par- 
thenon at  Athens, 
Notre  Dame  de 
Paris ;  the  Cathedral 
at  Milan,  the  Alham- 
bra  at  Granada  or  the 
Pantheon  at  Rome ; 
but  the  Hall  of  Pil- 
lars is  more  imposing 
than  any  or  all  of 
these.  Tested  as  to 
its  immensity ;  the 
bold  lines  in  which  it 
was  cast ;  the  courage 
with  w  h  i  c  h  it  was 
conceived,  and  the 
vastness  of  detail 
with  which  its  plans 
were    executed,    the 

Pyramids,  Colosseum,  and  St.  Peters  are  dwarfed  into  in- 
significance !  The  doorway,  still  standing,  is  the  first 
wonder  of  the  ancient  world — no  matter  who  names  the 
other  six.  Who  raised  its  lintel-stone  ?  What  system  of 
physics  enabled  the  builder  to  set  those  capitals?       A 


i^ 

■*^  :J^^^_^^^^ 

1^^^^ 

V|^K 

/ 

jflWA^^^^^^ 

/-^ 

j^H^p^^^^^^^^ 

fS^ilHtr^l^^^^^^^^^ 

■^Ml'"-^^^^^^^k 

^-'■M 

r^^A 

.^ 

w       .^^mIH 

Married  Woman  of  Luxor;  Mbt 
Among  the  Shops 


1 66  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

famous  Egyptologist  truly  said,  in  speaking  of  his  emo- 
tions on  entering  that  corridor  of  majestic  columns: — 
"I  have  shrunk  to  the  feebleness  of  a  fly !" 

We  gave  the  second  day  to  the  western  bank  of  the 
river  and  its  three  groups  of  ruins, — Goomah,  opposite 
Kamak ;  the  Rameseum,  almost  facing  Luxor,  and  Medi- 
net-Haboo.  a  mile  south  of  the  Colossi,  which  Herodotus 
so  accurately  described !  Then  we  climbed  the  base  of 
the  Lybian  hills  to  the  Theban  Necropolis,  and,  behind  a 
spur  of  sandstone  clifif,  sought  out  the  Tombs  of  the 
Kmgs.  The  best  guide  book  for  that  jaunt  is  Ebers' 
"Uarda,"  the  author  having  lived  in  one  of  those  tombs ! 

Taking  our  luncheon  in  the  shadow  of  the  towering 
Colossi,  the  conversation  assumed  a  thoroughly  modern 
vein. 

"This  is  the  scarabaci  market  of  Egypt,"  I  remarked. 
"Who  has  bought  any?" 

"Not  I,"  answered  Mrs.  Wentworth,  promptly.  "I 
prefer  to  get  mine  at  the  Gizeh  Museum,  even  if  they  are 
more  costly." 

"I  have  secured  a  rare  specimen  for  my  old  friend 
Colonel  Corkins,  of  Ohio,"  was  my  confession.  "He 
divides  his  time  between  Congressional  duty  and  ento- 
mology. When  I  send  him  this  stone  beetle  with  four 
eyes  and  six  ridges  down  its  back,  he  will  be  happy  for 
a  week  classifying  it.  He  is  a  monomaniac  on  beetles! 
A  rival  once  defeated  a  pet  bill  of  his  by  asking  him  to 
leave  the  House  at  a  critical  moment  to  see  a  bug  with 
two  tails." 

"Who  is  this   Colonel  Corkins?"  asked  Mrs.  Went- 


«f 


THE  COLOSSI:  FIGURES  FOR  THE  PYLON  OF  A  MAMMOTH 
TEMPLE;  ROCK-HEWN  TOMBS  ON  THE  FACE  OF  THE 
CLIFFS;    SCENE  OF  EBERS'  "UARDA" 


1 68  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

worth  in  all  seriousness.  "I  don't  seem  to  recall  his 
name." 

"There  is  but  one  like  him  anywhere,"  I  replied;  "he 
is  an  example  of  the  oddities  to  be  found  only  at  Wash- 
ington." 

"Speaking-  of  scarabaei,  the  neatest  things  I  have  seen 
are  the  beetle  paper-weights,"  said  Blake.  "I  have  se- 
cured an  assortment.  They  are  the  only  decorative 
trophies  I  have  found." 

"Exactly  my  experience,"  commented  Doris.  "Isn't 
it  strange  that  Luxor  doesn't  produce  something  that 
visitors  can  take  home?" 

"Not  at  all,"  explained  her  mother.  "The  present 
Luxorians  have  fifty  centuries  of  a  Past  to  which  they 
can  'point  with  pride' — and  that's  considerable  capital. 
Those  old  temples  bring  more  profits  into  town  than  all 
the  sugar  refineries  and  silk  mills  along  the  Nile.  These 
people  couldn't  have  had  a  better  advance-agent  than 
Rameses  II." 

"We  hear  of  a  few  other  kings,  it  is  true,"  said  Blake, 
"but  Rameses  II.  still  has  the  call.  He  is  the  central  fig- 
ure of  Egyptian  history.  As  Sesostris,  all  the  brave 
deeds  of  three  centuries  of  other  heroes  were  ascribed  to 
him." 

We  were  all  silent,  our  imaginations  busy  with  the 
mental  picture  of  Rameses  trying  to  fit  halos  on  his  brow. 

"I  am  sure  that  wasn't  his  fault,"  urged  Doris,  coming 
to  the  defense  of  the  King  of  Kings,  "for  we  saw  the 
story  of  his  life  from  childhood  to  the  grave  portrayed 
on  the  towers  of  Luxor.     Can  you  ever  forget  the  pag- 


In  a  Temple  Bazaar 


169 


eantry  of  that  triumphal    return    after    a    glorious  vic- 
tory?" 

"The  pictures  were  a 
panorama  of  death," 
commented  Airs.  Went- 
worth.  "Carnage  on  all 
sides ;  the  foe  always  flee- 
ing, without  hope  of 
q  u  a  r  t  e  r, — for  the  'Be- 
loved of  Amnion'  w  a  s 
above  human  laws  and 
knew  not  mercy." 

"Were  I  Khedive  of 
Egypt,"  exclaimed  Blake, 
with  enthusiasm,  "I'd 
give  old  Rameses  II.  the 
loftiest  monument  the 
world  has  ever  known. 
Instead  of  exposing  h  i  s 
grinning  cadaver  to  pub- 
lic gaze,  I'd  swing  the 
Pyramids  into  a  square 
and  build  them  higher 
than  the  clouds  of 
heaven,  to  do  honor  to  his 
name." 

Our    stay   at    Lux  o  v 
lengthened    into    four 
days,  every  hour  of  which 
will  always  he  memorable, 
eral  times  and  to  the  river's  l>ank,  whence  we  could  study 


1         1^^  ; 

1 

Im^k 

m ^^^^^^^B 

w  ^^^^^^^^^^^^^1 

.:»«». 

H^^^^^^^^^H 

-dm 

.--'-^^^^^^^P 

M 

'-- ^^^^^^^P^^ 

^H 

'^■-'^-dttl 

I 

Daughter  of  the  Shiek  of  Modern 
Memphis;  Sakkara  in  Back- 
ground 

We  went  to  the  temple  sev- 


170  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

the  plain  on  the  other  shore,  so  admirably  shown  in  my 
view  of  the  marvelous  Colossi.  At  the  hotel,  we  break- 
fasted under  the  trees,  and,  excepting  on  the  day  of  the 
Thebes-trip,  rested  in-doors  during  the  noon-time  heat. 

"I  couldn't  get  into  my  Gladstone  bag  this  morning," 
said  Doris.  "I  had  forgotten  the  combination." 
"What  are  you  talking  about?"  queried  her  mother. 
"I  didn't  take  my  keys  on  the  long  donkey  ride  to  the 
Tombs  of  the  Kings  yesterday,"  was  the  reply.  "I  locked 
the  bag,  put  the  key  in  a  bureau  drawer,  locked  the  bu- 
reau and  hid  its  key  on  the  top  shelf  of  the  wardrobe ; 
locked  the  wardrobe  and  put  its  key  where  I  cannot  find 
it.  If  I  could  remember,  I'd  be  all  right.  Can  it  be  that 
this  African  sun  is  affecting  my  head  ?" 

"What  is  that  key  on  the  string  of  Bisharin  beads  about 
your  neck?"  asked  Blake. 

"Ah !  It's  the  key  to  the  combination,"  said  Doris, 
laughing. 

While  in  Cairo,  I  had  applied  to  the  Egyptian  Govern- 
ment for  permission  to  traverse  the  recently  completed 
Military  Railway  across  the  Nubian  Desert,  from  Wadi 
Haifa  to  the  neighborhood  of  Khartum.  Many  days 
passed,  however,  and  the  formalities  were  unsettled  when 
the  hour  arrived  for  our  departure  on  the  Nile-journey. 
I  could  not  consent  to  delay,  but  directed  that  my  mail 
be  forwarded  to  Luxor. 

To  my  joy,  the  fourth  day's  post  brought  me  the  cov- 
eted permit  for  the  Soudan-journey.  I  was  aware  that 
the  document  might  not  be  demanded,  but  other  travelers 
had  been  turned  back  at  Wadi  Haifa,  and  I  did  not  care 


THE  AVENUE  OF  COLUMNS  AT  KARNAK.  SHOW- 
ING FALLING  PILLAR.  WHICH  WEALTHY  AR- 
CH/COLOGIST   WILL    REPLACE   IT? 


172  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

to  lose  time.  The  fare  exacted  is  sufficiently  prohibitive 
to  prevent  triflers  from  going  to  Khartum. 

I  had  less  than  an  hour  to  catch  the  train  for  Assouan, 
but  I  took  it.  Acting  on  my  advice,  Mrs.  Wentworth, 
her  daughter,  and  Mr.  Blake  engaged  passage  to  Cairo 
on  a  Nile-steamer,  leaving  next  day.  It  would  proceed 
leisurely,  stopping  en  route  at  several  places  of  interest. 
Thus  we  separated  for  ten  days. 

The  ladies  were  traveling  light.  Heavy  luggage  had 
been  left  at  Cairo  during  the  Nubian  invasion.  When 
Mrs.  Wentworth  entered  a  carriage  to  drive  to  the  Nile- 
boat,  a  young  man  approached.  He  bowed  officiously, 
and  said, 

"Bon  voyage,  Madame!" 

She  thanked  the  stranger,  though  there  was  a  tone  in 
his  voice  that  annoyed  her. 

"What  does  this  fellow  want?"  she  asked  Doris,  as 
her  daughter  appeared. 

Unabashed,  the  attendant  repeated  his  good  wishes, 
and  when  Doris  stared  at  him,  he  added, 

"I  had  the  honor  of  preparing  madame's  bill." 

Immunity  from  further  annoyance  was  purchased  with 
a  few  piastres.  Though  the  stay  had  been  brief,  the 
candidates  for  "tips"  were  many.  The  chambejmaid, 
hall-boy,  cook,  table-waiter,  head  waiter,  interpreter,  a 
porter  who  had  carried  the  luggage  up-stairs,  another 
who  brought  it  down,  and  a  third  who  placed  it  in  the 
carriage  expected  and  received  small  amounts. 

"  'It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive,'  and  I 
am  only  heeding  the  precept,"  said  Doris,  in  answer  to 
her  mother's  protests. 


CROUP  OF  DANCING  CIRLS  THAT  ENTERTAINED  THE 
WENTWORTH  PARTY  IN  THE  HOTEL  AT  LUXOR;  THEY 
KNEW  THE   ENCLISH    WORD   "  MONEY '• 


GLIMPSE    OF   THE    KIOSK    AT    PHIL^E,    FROM    A    NILE-BOAT   AT   SHELLAL 


Chapter  Thirteen 

Under  the  Southern  Cross 

THE  reconquest  of  the  Soudan  by  the  Sirdar, 
Sir  Herbert  (now  Lord)  Kitchener,  was 
rendered  possible  by  the  firm  hold  main- 
tained by  the  Egyptians  on  Wadi 
Haifa, — a  military  station  on  the  Nile  at  the  Second 
Cataract.  The  Italians  precipitated  that  conflict.  Hard 
pressed  by  the  Abysinnians,  and  the  dervishes  having  be- 
gun an  agitation  at  Kassala  which  seriously  threatened 
their  line  of  communication  with  the  Red  Sea  at  Mas- 
sawa,  Italy,  in  this  dilemma,  appealed  to  the  British 
Government  to  make  a  demonstration  south  of  Haifa 
to  relieve  this  menace.  The  movement,  at  once  under- 
taken, soon  developed  into  a  project  for  the  reoccupa- 
tion  of  Dongola  by  the  Anglo-Egyptian  forces.  Before 
many  months,  the  conflict  was  seen  to  involve  the  recon- 
quest of  Khartum. 

A  two-years'  campaign — necessarily  in  the  hot  season, 
because  the  Nile  is  then  in  flood,  and  involving  terrible 
hardships  on  the  native  as  well  as  on  the  British  troops, 

174 


Under  the  Southern  Cross  175 

who  finally  had  to  be  brought  into  the  conflict — re- 
sulted in  regaining  all  the  ground  in  the  Soudan  that  had 
been  lost  to  Egypt  by  the  series  of  disasters  beginning 
with  the  obliteration  of  Hicks  Pasha's  army,  and  the  death 
of  Gordon.  The  occupation  of  Dongola,  the  capture 
of  Abu  Hamed  and  of  Berber,  and  the  great  battle  near 
the  mouth  of  the  Atbara  (April  7,  1898)  are  occur- 
rences too  recent  to  need  further  reference.  As  the 
troops  advanced,  the  railway  was  laid  behind  them,  and 


Two  Tired  Companions,  Who  Made  the  Trip  From  Assouan  to 
Shellal  WITH  Mr.  North 

gunboats  were  hauled  through  the  rapids.  Civilization 
and  conquest  went  hand  in  hand.  The  terrible  Nubian 
desert  between  Wadi  Haifa  and  Abu  Hamed — recalled 


176  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

by  persons  familiar  with  the  map  as  the  point  at  which 
the  river  makes  a  long  detour  to  the  westward — was 
finally  crossed  by  227  miles  of  steel  rails,  which  had  been 
laid  upon  iron  ties — placed  in  the  sand — and  bolted  to- 
gether in  such  a  way  as  to  provide  for  expansion  in 
daylight  and  for  contraction  at  night.  Thence  the  road 
was  pushed  south,  mile  by  mile,  until  its  terminus  came 
in  sight  of  the  Mahdi's  capital,  at  the  confluence  of  the 
Blue  and  White  Niles. 

When  informed  that  a  permit  had  been  granted  to  me 
to  travel  on  the  Military  Railway  across  the  Nubian  Des- 
ert, I  took  hasty  leave  of  my  friends  at  Luxor,  promis- 
ing to  rejoin  them  at  Cairo.  Doubling  on  my  track  to 
Assouan,  I  reached  there  at  dark,  and  ascertained  that 
a  steamer  sailed  for  Wadi  Haifa  the  following  morning. 
I  was,  accordingly,  in  the  saddle  at  daybreak,  and  rode 
seven  miles  round  the  First  Cataract  to  Shellal  before 
the  heat  became  excessive,  boarded  the  boat,  and  se- 
cured a  comfortable  stateroom.  I  never  had  expected 
to  see  Philse  again ;  but,  seated  on  deck  awaiting  the  hour 
of  departure,  I  once  more  beheld,  across  the  narrow  arm 
of  the  river,  the  beautiful  kiosk,  and  the  sombre  pylon  of 
the  Temple  of  Isis! 

Steaming  past  the  Island  of  Philse,  we  soon  entered  the 
main  stream  of  the  river,  about  the  width  of  the  Con- 
necticut at  Middletown.  The  cliffs  were  of  granite,  but 
the  scenery  soon  grew  less  wild,  and  verdure  appeared 
along  the  banks.  Massive  ruins  rose  from  time  to  time 
on  both  sides  of  the  Nile,  but  I  had  little  desire  to  see 
anything  more  of  that  character  until  Abu  Simble. 

A  fine  temple  rose  back  of  the  town  of  Debot,  on  the 


f 

T^  ^^1  li^B  ^^^^^^^I^^^^^^^K 

f 

m' 

[^ 

4^^^^Hr-      V^^'    l_^_^flfvW^4AJU.^HHK. 

s 

jSf  ^ 

"i^SSU^Er-    ^HS 

r 

K- 

t 

J^fl 

\ 

flfi^ 

i 

P^MT 

1 

HciisIIHP 

DERR  IS  THE  SITE  OF  A  ROCK-HEWN  TEMPLE;  A 
BUSY  MARKET  FOR  MANY  VARIETIES  OF  NUBIAN 
MANUFACTURED  ARTICLES 


178  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

west  bank;  and  at  Kertassi,  15  miles  farther,  was  a 
dainty  little  edifice  that  recalled  the  pretty  kiosk  at 
Philse.  The  sandstone  cliflfs  of  that  region  w^ere  the 
quarries  for  half  the  temples  between  that  point  and 
Luxor.  Walls  of  rock  encroach  upon  the  river,  creating 
the  imposing  and  gloomy  gorge  called  Bab  el-Kalabsheh. 
Navigation  at  this  point  is  difficult,  owing  to  the  tortu- 
ous course  of  the  stream,  but  when  we  emerged  from 
the  cafion,  as  from  a  tunnel,  a  massive  temple  appeared 
on  our  right.  We  had  crossed  the  Tropic  of  Cancer  dur- 
ing the  passage  of  the  watery  defile,  as  I  discovered  by 
consulting  a  map.  The  Temple  of  Kalabsheh  would 
have  been  well  worth  a  visit  to  any  Egyptian  traveler 
who  had  not  supped  and  dined  on  ruins  for  days. 

As  the  afternoon  wore  away,  we  steamed  slowly  past 
Dendur,  and  near  six  o'clock  we  stopped  at  Dakkeh  to 
make  repairs  to  the  boat's  machinery.  A  few  travelers, 
like  myself,  took  advantage  of  the  halt  to  visit  the  well- 
preserved  temple, — comparatively  modem,  and  the  hiero- 
glyphics in  excellent  condition. 

Above  this  point  the  river  widens  into  a  kind  of  Tap- 
pan  Zee,  and  is  shallow  and  difficult  of  navigation  by 
night;  but  before  darkness  fell  we  had  passed  round  a 
broad  bend  to  the  westward  and  tied  up  at  Sebua,  the  site 
of  a  Temple  of  Ammon,  built  by  our  friend  Rameses  II., 
where  the  king  was  worshiped  as  a  god.  The  approach 
to  the  temple — as  we  found  it  early  next  morning — was 
.through  an  avenue  of  Sphinxes,  representing  the  king 
as  a  lion  with  a  human  head.  The  great  hall,  hewn  out 
of  rock,  was  too  full  of  sand  for  comfortable  exploration. 
An  indescribable  dread  of  open  v.'dls  or  trap-doors  in 


Under  the  Southern  Cross 


179 


the  floor  attended  my  brief  tramp  tlirouoh  the  quiver- 
ing, always  yielding,  sand. 

We  did  not  stop  at  Korusko, — quite  a  busy  place  ap- 


The  Morning  Sun  Penetrates  to  the  Inner  Chamber  ok  the  Temple 
AT  Abu  Simble 

parently,— or  at  the  Rock  'remi)lc  of  Dcrr,  but  ]ni=ihcd  on 
to  Abu  Simble. 

Near  Derr,  I  saw  my  first  Nile  crocodile!     As  it  lay 
motionless  in  the  water,  the  saurian  resembled  a  cypress 


I  So 


The  Destiny  of   Doris 


Facade  of  the  Rock-hewn  Temple  at  Abu  Simble,  Showing  the 
Four  Colossi 


log.  The  color  effect  was  greenish-chestnut.  A  preju- 
dice exists  among  the  natives  against  shooting  them, — 
probably  an  evolution  of  ancient  saurian-worship  along 
the  Nile. 

On  the  right  bank  was  Toski,  where  Wad  el  Nejumi — 
the  most  heroic  figure  among  all  the  Arab  chieftains  of 
the  Soudan  war,  and  the  destroyer  of  Hicks  Pasha's 
army — was  defeated  by  Colonel  Wodehouse,  on  August 


Under  the  Southern  Cross 


i8i 


3r(I,  i8S8.     He  was  bent  on  an  invasion  of  Egypt,  but  was 
killed  and  his  army  destroyed. 

Part  of  the  afternoon  was  spent  at  Abu  Simble.  No- 
thing seen  in  Africa  produces  the  same  impression  of 
ancient  Egy'ptian  energy  as  that  rock-hewn  Temple  of 
Rameses  II.  It  is  entirely  excavated,  and  extends  into 
the  solid  cliff-side  200  feet.  Xot  a  trace  of  cement  or 
mortar   is   visible.     Ascending   the   magnificent,    though 


.m.^ 


Second  Cataract,  at  Wadi  Halfa,  Where  the  Nile  Tumbles  Over 
Masses  of  Volcanic  Rock 


sand-covered,  flight  of  steps,  the  imjiosing  fac^ade  rose 
before  me  in  the  style  of  a  pylon,  100  feet  high.  In  that 
lofty  fore-court  sit  four  colossi  of  Rameses  I!.,  each  figure 


1 82  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

65  feet  high, — taller  than  the  colossi  of  Memnon  at 
Thebes,  which  had  seemed  so  stupendous  on  the  plain 
of  Thebes !  The  head  and  shoulders  of  the  statue  at  the 
left  of  the  entrance  has  fallen  to  the  floor,  but  the  other 
three  are  intact. 

Having  prepared  ourselves  with  magnesium  tape,  we 
entered  the  Great  Vestibule,  walked  slowly  through  the 
Small  Hypostyle  Hall  and  into  the  Sanctuary,  exactly 
180  feet  from  the  first  doorway.  Every  square  yard  of 
the  walls  is  covered  with  inscriptions  and  pictures. 
Weeks  would  be  necessary  for  a  minute  examination. 
Behind  the  sacrificial  altar,  in  the  Sanctuary,  are  seated 
Ptah,  Ammon-Re,  the  deified  Rameses,  and  the  hawk- 
headed  Re-Harmkhis, — the  four  deities  worshiped  there. 
The  temple  was  built  facing  the  east,  so  that  at  sunrise 
the  rays  of  the  glorious  orb  of  day  penetrate  the  in- 
nermost sanctuary  and  render  luminous  the  whole  in- 
terior. 

Like  the  Arabs  of  Granada,  3,000  years  later,  the 
Egyptians  at  Abu  Simble  had  invoked  the  God  of  Dawn ! 

We  had  no  time  or  inclination  to  visit  the  smaller 
temples :  we  were  intent  on  reaching  Haifa  that  night. 

Every  mile  of  the  river's  bank  has  its  ruined  fort- 
ress, temple,  or  city.  We  finally  tied  up  at  the  village  of 
Ankish.  A  few  lights  at  Wadi  Haifa  could  be  seen  a 
mile  to  the  southward.  Sending  our  baggage  to  the 
hotel,  most  of  the  passengers  rode  thither  on  donkeys, 
attended  in  usual  fashion  by  wheezing  drivers.  The 
ride  soon  developed  into  a  race  for  the  best  rooms  at  the 
hotel. 

That   night   I   saw   the   splendid   constellation   of   the 


A  WADI-HALFA  WATER-CARRIER  ON  THE  UPPER 
NILE;  THE  PIGSKIN  SUPPLANTS  THE  CLASS 
JAR  SEEN   IN  CAIRO 


184  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

Southern   Cross;  the  grand  group  of  suns  looked  just 
as  I  had  seen  it  in  the  West  Indies. 

Wadi  Haifa  consists  of  several  communities.  It  is  on 
the  edge  of  the  Bisharin's  own  country,  and  a  few  war- 
riors, who  have  not  been  killed  by  British  rifles,  are  seen 
wandering  about  the  dusty  streets,  unhappy  and  restless. 
Here  the  very  black  Ethiopians  are  encountered,  also 
many  Abysinnians.  Th.e  Arab  has  disappeared  outside 
the  bazaars.  There  the  crafty  merchant  is  found  with 
the  same  restless  eyes  and  the  silken  moustache  that  we 
have  seen  in  Cairo. 

To  the  Arab-trader  a  moustache  seems  as  necessary 
as  to  a  ventriloquist ! 

The  train  on  the  Military  Railway  did  not  leave  for 
Khartum  till  8  o'clock  in  the  evening;  so  the  day  was 
utilized  by  crossing  to  the  west  bank  and  climbing  the 
rocky  heights  of  Abusir.  From  it  every  yard  of  the 
five  miles  of  the  Second  Cataract  can  be  seen.  The  river 
engages  in  a  constant  struggle  with  sharp,  stony  snags, 
that  tear  the  water  into  ribbons,  or  huge  boulders  against 
which  it  beats  itself  into  foam.  My  donkey-boy  sudden- 
ly offered  me  a  knife,  to  cut  my  name  into  the  soft  stone, 
and  when  I  shook  my  head,  he  led  me  to  a  peak  I  had  not 
noticed,  and  showed  me,  deeply  graven  in  the  rock,  the 
word  "GORDON."  Wadi  Halfans  declare  that  the 
general  sat  for  several  hours  at  that  lofty  view-point 
the  day  before  he  set  out  for  Khartum,  gazing  toward  the 
Soudan.  Then  he  graved  his  name,  they  say,  and  left 
the  spot  forever.     The  name  is  there,  beyond  a  doubt. 

The  night-ride  in  a  sleeping-car  across  the  desert,  in 
which  two  Anglo-Egyptian  armies  were  decimated  by 


Under  the  Southern  Cross 


I  ^^5 


thirst,  sun-stroke,  and  falig-uc,  would  have  been  one  of 
real  comfort  had  the  sand  been  less  persistent  in  en- 
tering the  cars.  The  temi)erature  fell  toward  midnight 
to  such  a  degree  that  a  thin  blanket  was  welcome.  Be- 
fore Lord  Kitchener  built  the  line  that  now  renders  it 
so  easy  of  accomplishment,  this  journey  required  seven 


A 

iir^^ 

k^- 

Village  of  Omdurman,  Opposite  Khartum,  Where  the  Mahdi 

Had  His  Headquarters  During  the  Siege  of 

General  Cordon's  Forces 

days  on  camel-back.  We  were  at  Abu  T Tamed  by  break- 
fast-time, and,  a  restaurant-car  having  been  attached,  we 
enjoyed  our  morning  repast  nulling  along  the  rapidly-nar- 
nnving  and  island-bes])angled  Nile. 

The  neighborhood  of  the  Fifth   Cataract   was  passed 
two  hours  before  we  came   to    Uerber,    where   General 


1 86  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

Gordon's  line  of  communication  was  finally  cut  and  his 
doom  rendered  certain.  The  last  Dervish  Occupation 
was  the  ruin  of  this  once-prosperous  center  of  caravan 
trade.  It  is  in  the  same  condition — on  a  small  scale — as 
Alexandria, — the  once-mighty  trade-mart    of    the  world. 

Toward  nightfall  we  crossed  the  famous  Atbara 
Bridge,  erected  by  American  contractors  in  a  space  of 
time  so  brief  as  to  astonish  the  scientific  men  of  all  na- 
tions. The  width  of  the  river-bed — then  nearly  dry — 
indicated  that  when  in  flood  the  Atbara  is  the  size  of  the 
Ohio  at  Wheeling. 

Now  I  understood  how  the  steel  superstructure  was 
brought  so  expeditiously  from  the  seacoast !  The  con- 
tractors shipped  the  materials  from  Alexandria  to  Shellal, 
loaded  them  there  into  light-draft  steamers,  and  trans- 
ferred them  to  cars  at  Wadi  Haifa  for  their  destina- 
tion. 

After  a  cool  night's  journey, — without  discomfort 
from  sand, — through  Sagadi,  Shendi,  and — after  day- 
light— Halfiyeh,  the  train  drew  up  at  its  last  station,  near 
the  mouth  of  the  Blue  Nile. 

I  was  especially  disappointed  at  the  s*hallowness  of 
this  Abysinnian  affluent  of  the  great  river.  Back-water 
from  the  White  Nile  gave  it  an  imposing  appearance  at 
the  junction  of  the  two  streams  ;  but  on  the  following  day 
I  found  that  the  Blue  Nile  was  fordable  a  few  miles 
south  of  the  city.  The  White  Nile  is  the  perennial 
stream  ;  but  the  Blue  Nile,  which  almost  runs  dry  in  May, 
is  the  irrigator  of  Egypt,  and  supplies  the  torrent  that 
overflows  the  Nile  Valley  for  i,8oo  miles.  From  the  end 
of  the  railway,  passengers  were  conveyed  by  small  boats 


TWO  ARAB  FRUIT  WOMEN  :  THE  SUGAR-CANE  VENDOR 
IS  MARRIED.  AS  HER  FACE  COVERING  INDICATES:  THE 
ORANGE-GIRL  DOESN  T  COVET  MATRIMONY 


1 88  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

to  Khartum,  which  stands  about  400  meters  south  of  the 
junction  of  the  Bkie  and  White  Niles. 

On  the  western  bank  of  the  river  was  the  Kordofan 
town  of  Omdurman,  where  the  Mahdi  established  his 
capital  before  Gordon  was  killed  and  Khartum  taken. 
It  was  Saturday  morning,  and  four  days  had  elapsed 
since  I  had  left  Assouan.  As  the  crow  flies,  I  was  with- 
in 350  miles  of  Fashoda! 

Three  interesting  days  were  passed  at  the  Anglo- 
Egyptian  seat  of  government  in  the  Soudan.  The  names 
of  Sir  Samuel  Baker  and  General  Gordon  render  the 
quaint  town  exceedingly  interesting  to  a  traveler  of  the 
Caucasian  race.  The  population  of  Khartum  would 
be  hard  to  fix,  as  no  two  authorities  agree.  I  should 
say,  it  did  not  exceed  1,500  inhabitants,  exclusive  of  the 
English  and  Egyptian  troops  in  barracks  and  hospital. 
The  Government  buildings  are  of  white  stone  and  stucco. 
Direct  telegraphic  communication  exists  with  Cairo, 
and  mail  arrives  once  or  twice  a  week. 

The  bazaars  are  the  most  interesting  seen  in  Africa. 
They  are  filled  with  wares  brought  from  Darfur,  by 
caravan  or  floated  down  the  White  Nile  from  the  re- 
gions of  the  Great  Lakes,  Albert  and  Victoria. 

Shrouded  in  mystery  as  is  the  final  catastrophe  of  the 
Gordon  regime,  the  accredited  scene  of  his  death  at  the 
head  of  the  stairway  in  the  palace  is  just  such  a  place 
at  a  bizarre  character  like  Gordon  would  choose  in 
which  to  meet  his  end.  During  the  trip,  by  boat  and  rail 
from  Shellal,  I  had  carefully  read  his  six  Diaries,  sent 
from  Khartum  between  September  30th  and  Decem- 
ber 15th,   1884,  and  I  had  formed  an  idea  of  General 


Under  the  Southern  Cross 


189 


Gordon's  character,  which  had  not  chansj^ed  by  anvthini^ 
subsequently  seen  or  heard.  He  would  appear  to  have 
been  a  relig-ious  crank!"  His  disposition  had  evidently 
soured  toward  his  native  country.  His  Diaries  are  flip- 
pant, when  they  ought  to  have  been  serious.  Gordon 
brought  his  troubles  upon  himself:   he  was  sent  away 


A  Soudanese  Warkior  at  Khartum,  Capturiid  in  the  Fashoda 

Campaign,  Posing  on  a  Camel:  the  Only  Thing  that  Rew- 

DERs  Him  Dangerous  is  His  Fearlessness  of  Death 

from  London  on  a  definite  mission,  with  instructions  to 
reach  Khartum  by  way  of  Suakin,  the  Egyptian  ]jort 
on  the  Red  Sea.  C)bviously,  this  was  to  i)rcvent  him 
from  entering  into  any  entangling  alliance  with  the 
Khedive.  Instead  of  proceeding  to  Port  Said  and  di- 
j"ectly   down   the  Red   Sea,  Gord«jn   went  to  Cairo  and 


SQUARE  OF  MAHOMET  ALI,  IN  THE  CENTRE  OF 
NEW  ALEXANDRIA.  A  STATUE  OF  THE  GREAT 
KHEDIVE  GIVES   NAME  TO  THE  PLACE 


The  Destiny  of  Doris  191 

secured  an  appointment  as  Governor-General  of  tlie 
Soudan !  His  only  excuse  for  this  remarkably  presump- 
tuous act  was  that  he  could  not  expect  obedience  from 
the  Egyptian  officers  and  men.  and  could  not  exercise 
proper  authority  unless  he  held  office  under  the  Khedive ! 
I  never  have  been  able  to  find  that  the  Gladstone  Gov- 
ernment intended  that  he  should  "wield  any  authority 
over  the  troops  of  the  Khedive.''  In  this  particular, 
Gordon  was  a  meddler;  when  he  got  himself  into  an 
awkward  position,  by  assuming  unexpected  responsibili- 
ties, he  became  a  whiner. 

His  bravery,  his  conscientious  sense  of  duty  to  the  gar- 
risons he  had  taken  over,  and  his  fidelity  unto  death  to 
the  Arabs  who  stood  by  him  is  beyond  question.  His 
size  was  that  of  a  regimental,  or  brigade,  commander. 
He  was  not  equal  to  the  government  of  a  province.  His 
Chinese-record  as  a  commander,  who  struck  promptly 
and  with  awe-inspiring  severity,  was  nullified  by  his 
year's  shilly-shallying  at  Khartum.  As  I  stood  on  the 
lop  of  the  Serail, — where  he  had  stood  so  often  during 
those  long  and  agonizing  months  of  suspense, — and 
gazed  over  the  surrounding  country  for  miles,  I  could 
only  marvel  that  Gordon  had  held  out  against  the  Mahdi 
as  long  as  he  had.  The  possibilities  of  defending  the 
promontory  from  artillery-fire  are  meagre.  I  understood 
perfectly  what  Lord  Milner  meant  by  describing  the  im- 
practicable Arab  chieftain.  Wad  el  Nejumi,  who  tried  to 
lead  an  army  across  the  Nubian  Desert  into  Egypt,  as 
"the  Gordon  of  Mahdiism." 

The  train  to  connect  witli  the  boat  at  Wadi  Haifa  left 
on  Tuesday  night,  and  the  fifth  ni-irning  1  was  in  Cairo. 


GARDEN  OF  GETHSEMANE,  MOUNT  OF 
OLIVES.  SCENE  OF  THE  SAVIOUR'S 
AGONY  :  AS   IT  IS  TO-DAY 


THE    JORDAN,    WHERE   CHRIST   WAS    BAPTIZED   AND   THE    ISRAELITES   CROSSED 


Chapter  Fourteen 


Under  the  Holy  Cross 


WHEN  I  returned  to  Cairo,  my  friends  had 
completed  their  leisurely  trip  down  the 
Nile  from  Luxor  on  one  of  the  Cook-boats, 
stopping  at  the  Temple  of  Denderah ; 
at  Abydos,  with  its  curious  temples  of  Sethi  and  Rame- 
ses  II. ;  at  Assiout,  where  a  slave-market  secretly  ex- 
isted long  after  the  trade  had  been  abolished  in  other 
parts  of  Egypt,  and,  finally,  at  Beni-Hassan  and  its 
interesting  tombs.  Four  days,  thus,  had  been  pleasantly 
occupied,  while  I  had  been  sweltering  on  the  road  to 
Khartum. 

They  had  made  a  hurried  visit  to  Alexandria,  "the  City 
of  a  Thousand  Lights," — for  many  centuries  the  greatest 
seaport  in  the  world.  She  became  the  seat  of  poetry, 
science,  and  art ;  was  the  abode  of  Apelles,  Euclid,  Strabo, 
Aristophanes,  Apollodorus,  and  Theocritus.  The  lighted 
windows  of  her  myriad  houses  shone  far  across  the  sea. 
The  discovery  of  the  route  to  India  by  the  Cai)e  of  Good 

193 


194  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

Hope,  dealt  the  first  of  a  series  of  blows  to  Alexandria 
that,  in  the  aggregate,  have  ruined  her  trade  and  de- 
stroyed her  architectural  beauties.  The  opening  of  the 
Suez  Canal  ended  forever  her  importance  on  the  ]Med- 
iterranean,  and  English  shells  laid  low  her  battlemented 
walls. 

Mrs.  Wentworth  and  her  companions  found  a  blighted 
modem  city,  bearing  the  scar  of  civilizing  vandalism. 
They  searched  in  vain  for  traces  of  Csesar  and  j\Iark  An- 
tony, but  saw  only  some  baths  that  bore  the  name  of 
Cleopatra.  1  am  permitted  to  make  the  following  ex- 
tract from  Miss  Wentworth's  diary : 

"The  four  hours'  ride  from  Cairo  was  through  the 
garden  of  Egypt, — the  Delta.  Amid  an  exuberance  of 
verdure,  we  forgot  the  parched  wastes  of  Arabia  and 
Lybia.  The  approach  to  the  town,  cooled  by  the  glisten- 
ing waters  of  Mareotis  and  the  Mediterranean,  was 
thrilling  to  travelers  returned  from  the  desert.  The  lux- 
uriance of  the  surrounding  country  contrasted  sadly  with 
the  general  decadence  still  in  progress  in  Alexandria. 
I  felt  as  if  contemplating  a  human  creature  stricken  with 
death.     1  knew  that  we  were  yet  in  Egypt! 

•'We  drove  to  Pompey's  Pillar,  but  it  was  a  dismal 
trip,  recalling  the  ride  from  Cairo  to  Heliopolis  and  its 
single  obelisk.  We  found  it  behind  an  Arab  cemetery. 
The  column  of  red  Assouan  granite,  sixty-five  feet  high, 
and  nine  feet  in  diameter,  is  nobility  in  stone.  An  artifi- 
cial eminence  renders  the  monolith  visible  from  every 
part  of  the  harbor. 

"Our  intention  had  been  to  remain  over  night  at  Alex- 
andria; but  w^e  learned  that  a  train  with  a  dining-car 


A  MUSSULMAN  OF  ALEXANDRIA  PREPARING  TO  SET 
OUT  ON  THE  MECCA  PILGRIMAGE;  HE  WILL  TRAVEL 
AND  SLEEP  IN  THE  PALANQUIN 


196  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

left  at  six  o'clock  for  the  capital,  so  we  took  it.     We 
dined  well,  and  the  time  passed  so  pleasantly  that  the 


House  of  a  True  Believer,  Who  Had  Made  the  Pilgrimage  to  Mecca, 
AND  Wanted  Everybody  to  Know 

lights  of  Cairo  showed  through  the  car-window  before 
we  realized  that  the  journey  was  ended." 

But  an  event  of  the  highest  importance — not  set  down 
by  Miss  Wentworth — had  happened  at  the  old  seaport. 
One  of  the  first  things  I  observed  on  meeting  Doris  was 
a  fine  diamond  ring  on  her  left  hand ; — its  possession  in- 
volved a  pretty  story : 

"The  young  people  rambled  about  the  shops  in  Alex- 
andria, and  returned  to  our  hotel  in  high  spirits,"  Mrs. 
Wentworth  explained  to  me.  "  'Quite  like  London,' 
chattered  Doris.     'Street  scenes  same  as  Cairo,'  Vernon 


Under  the  Holy  Cross 


197 


chimed  in.  'Water  peddled  about  in  cans.  Doris  dis- 
covered a  house  covered  with  crude  pictures.  It  be- 
longed to  a  good  Mohammedan  who  had  made  the  pil- 
grimage to  Mecca.  She  made  a  picture  of  the  wall.  It 
was  the  most  interesting  thing  we  saw.'  'What  a  terri- 
ble fib!'  whispered  Doris  to  me,  holding  up  her  hand 
that  I  might  see  a  diamond  upon  it ;  then  she  added, 
aloud,  'This  ring  is  far  more  interesting  to  me,  mamma.' 
I  took  the  dear  girl  in  mv  arms  and  kissed  her.     I  could 


'K-'"' 

, 

^  fgg^fy^ 

1 

1'.4 

■  4 

^^ 

^■ito^ji 

wt^ 

*• 

^^^^Hj 

kI 

i^r 

-     * 

1 

^g 

^^HM 

^' 

^- , 

\ 

^^^ 

fS^^KfB^^ 

''"  .■',•■ 

"■ 

^j-Jl 

itrntSm 

i^HH 

■•. 

Last  Sight  of  the  Pyramids  of  Cizeh,  from  the  Train 


have  wept  for  joy.  Feeling  that  he  must  say  something, 
Vernon  stammered  'Oh,  yes!  We  also  saw  a  ring  in  a 
window,  and  I  put  it  on  Doris'  finger.'  T  was  quite  pre- 
pared for  tlie  appearance  of  an  engagement  ring,  because 


198  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

\"ernon  haunted  my  steps  every  hour  on  the  Nile  boat 
until  he  caught  me  alone  one  afternoon,  when  Doris  was 
napping  in  her  cabin,  and  he  went  at  the  subject  of  his 
marriage  to  my  daughter  in  such  a  resolute  way  as  to 
leave  no  doubt  of  his  determination  to  have  a  hearing. 
His  manner  was  wholly  changed.  He  had  attempted, 
timidly,  to  bring  up  the  subject  on  board  the  Hohen- 
zollern,  between  Gibraltar  and  Naples,  and  I  had  put  him 
off;  but  on  the  Nile  he  had  the  courage  of  his  convic- 
tions. He  won  my  heart  completely,  I  didn't  want  to 
refuse  him.  He  is  a  gallant  fellow,  and  I  believe  he  will 
make  Doris  happy." 

Hardly  had  Mrs.  Wentworth  finished  before  Blake 
came  to  where  we  were  sitting  on  the  broad  hotel-porch, 
overlooking  the  Ezbekiyeh. 

"You  ought  to  be  a  very  happy  man,"  I  hastened  to 
say,  extending  my  hand.     "I  sincerely  congratulate  you." 

My  face  surely  reflected  the  gladness  I  felt ;  for  this 
engagement  meant  much  to  me. 

*'I  thank  you,  Mr.  North,"  he  replied, — adding  in  a 
low  voice:  "You  have  been  a  good  friend  and  a  wise 
advisor." 

"She  is  worthy  of  the  best  man  living,"  said  I. 

"She's  the  sweetest  girl  on  earth !" 

Blake  would  have  hugged  me  could  he  have  loosened 
my  hand-grasp. 

We  said  farewell  to  Cairo  with  regret.  Our  month  in 
Egypt  had  been  thirty  days  of  enjoyment  without  a 
single  disturbing  incident.  We  recalled  our  wonderful 
experiences   as    the    rapid    morning-express    carried    us 


A  HOTEL  ON  THE  SUEZ  CANAL.  AMID  ITS  LUX- 
URIANT WEALTH  OF  TROPICAL  VEGETATION 
AND  DAZZLING    SUNLIGHT 


-^6  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

through  the  Delta  to  the  Desert  on  the  way  to   Port 
Said. 

We  were  detained  a  couple  of  hours  by  the  change  of 
cars  at  Ismailiya,  but  occupied  the  time  delightfully  by 
driving  to  a  hotel  on  the  lake  and  having  a  bath.  The 
water  was  delightful,  and  we  entered  the  cars  greatly  re- 
freshed for  the  trip  along  the  bank  of  the  Suez  Canal. 

Boarding  the  steamer  from  the  Port  Said  station,  we 
dined  and  sailed  for  Jaffa  at  dusk.  The  Mediterranean 
was  as  mild  as  a  mill-pond,  and  we  awoke  to  find  the 
ship  at  anchor  off  the  Syrian  port,  the  mountains 
of  Judea  in  the  background.  Quite  a  level  stretch  of 
country  intervened  between  the  shore  and  the  hills,  the 
southern  part  of  which  was  the  historic  Plain  of  Phil- 
istia.     To  the  north  stretched  the  Plain  of  Sharon. 

As  at  Tangier,  we  landed  in  small  boats,  at  a  flight 
of  steps  on  the  sea-wall.  Simon's  tan-yard  was  along- 
side the  steps ;  and  the  water  from  its  vats  discolored  the 
Mediterranean. 

"Peter  had  a  dream  there,  and  saw  things,  you  remem- 
ber," began  Blake. 

The  train  didn't  start  until  the  middle  of  the  after- 
noon, so  we  took  luncheon  at  a  hotel. 

"Change  cars  for  Jerusalem !"  is  no  longer  an  idle 
joke.  The  ascent  of  3,000  feet,  and  ride  of  90  miles, 
from  the  coast  to  the  Holy  City  is  accomplished  in  four 
houfs  an<i  a  half.  The  cars  are  comfortable,  but  most 
of  the  region  traversed  is  very  gloomy. 

The  line  leads  first  to  Ramleh,  through  meadows  aglow 
with  the  red  anemone,  known  in  all  parts  of  the  world 


tinder  the  Holy  Cross 


20 1 


as  iThe  Rose  of  Sharon.  At  the  top  of  a  steep  grade 
is  a  fine  panorama  of  the  field  of  Ajalon,  where  "the  sun 
stood  still  until  the  people  had  avenged  themselves  upon 
their  enemies."     Ascent  tlien  begins  in  earnest,  and  ends 


Port  of  Jaffa,  One  of  the  Most  Dangerous  o:j  tii:^  Mii., 
House  of  Simon  the  Tanner  at  the  Right 


at  the  station  outside-  the  Jaffa  Gate.  So  general  is  the 
wish  of  believers  in  the  Christian  faith  to  enter  the  city 
on  foot,  as  did  the  Saviour,  that  most  of  the  carriages 
await    the    approaching    throng  of  travelers  inside   the 


202  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

walls.     We  were  driven  to   the   hotel   through   narrow, 
filthy  streets,  flagrantly  malodorous. 

The  best  authorities  declare  that  the  aspect  of  the  Holy 
City  within  the  walls  is  unchanged,  and  that  whatever 
is  new  in  Jerusalem  has  grown  outside. 

Blake  and  I  made  a  half-hearted  attempt  at  a  walk  that 
night,  but  the  streets  were  unsuited  for  any  such  adven- 
ture, and  we  returned  without  being  able  to  find  even  a 
place  of  refreshment. 

Our  first  pilgrimage  was  to  the  Mosque  of  Omar,  on 
the  site  of  Solomon's  Temple.  The  high  wall  surrounding 
this  Arab  church  separates  it  from  the  rest  of  the  city. 
The  enclosure  equals  a  square  quarter-mile — the  area  of 
the  old  temple.  Into  this  dearest  place  on  earth  to  the 
Jew,  he  may  not  enter;  but  he  has  bought  the  right  to 
lean  against  the  outside  of  the  wall,  and  bewail  the  de- 
struction of  his  city  and  temple.  As  it  was  Friday, 
almost  every  foot  of  the  narrow  cnl  dc  sac  was  occu- 
pied by  native  Hebrews,  busy  with  their  lamentations. 
The  sight  was  painful,  because  the  mental  agony  of  the 
despairing  men  was  genuine.  For  eighteen  hundred 
years  it  has  continued. 

We  walked  and  rode  to  the  Mount  of  Olives,  to  see 
the  sun  set. 

"Where  are  the  trees  that  give  this  hill  its  name?" 
asked  Doris. 

No  one  could  answer. 

"The  ground  is  miserably  poor  and  stony;  but  the 
olive  will  grow  in  any  soil,"  said  the  dragoman.  "The 
surface  is  cut  by  so  many  mud  walls  that  the  localities 


SITE  OF  THE  TEMPLE  OF  SOLOMON;  WALLS  SHOWING 
ITS  AREA  AND  THE  MOSQUE  OF  OMAR  ;  TO  IT  CHRIS- 
TIANS ARE   NOW  ADMITTED  :  JEWS  NEVER 


204  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

identified  with  the  life  of  Christ  can  no  longer  be  identi- 
fied." 

The  Blount  is  beyond  the  Kedron,  and  the  climb  was 
about  as  steep  as  the  side  of  the  Great  Pyramid.  We 
halted  a  short  time  at  the  Garden  of  Gethsemane,  enclosed 
bv  a  stone-wall  and  guarded  by  the  Latin  and  Greek- 
churches.  Reaching  the  summit  of  the  Mount,  we  looked 
southward  to  the  point  that  was  "over  against  the 
temple."  It  was  a  pitiful  scene  of  desolation.  The 
Mosque  of  Omar  was  in  full  view,  from  base  to  dome. 
We  probably  stood  where  the  Saviour  wept  over  the  city 
and  predicted  its  destruction. 

CUmbing  to  the  top  of  a  minaret  nearby,  we 
were  able  to  look  over  a  ridge  into  the  Valley  of 
Jehoshaphat.  To  our  amazement,  the  Jordan  was  in  plain 
sight,  and  the  broad  blue  expanse  of  the  Dead  Sea  twen- 
tv  miles  away,  with  the  mountains  of  Moab  behind  it! 

The  mosque  wherein  we  stood  is  believed  to  cover 
the  place  of  the  Ascension,  and  is  held  in  equal  rever- 
ence by  Mohammedan  and  Christian.  The  Arab  believes 
in  three  dispensations  : — The  first  by  Moses,  the  second 
by  Christ,  and  the  third  by  Mahomet.  Christians  gener- 
ally do  not  understand  that  the  followers  of  Islam  ac- 
cept Christ  as  the  second  of  God's  representatives  on 
earth.  The  Mohammedan  believes  in  one  God,  repu- 
diating the  Trinity.  He  promulgates  a  code  of  morals 
virtually  the  same  as  that  given  to  Moses  on  Sinai.  His 
psalms  closely  resemble  those  of  David ;  he  admits  the 
miraculous  birth  and  unique  character  of  Jesus  Christ, 
and,  instead  of  repentance  and  salvation  by  grace,  he  con- 
tents himself  with  sublime  confidence  in  God's  mercy. 


Under  the  Holy  Cross 


205 


His  conscience  is  put  at  ease  after  any  namable  sin  by 
prompt  confession;  his  belief  in  God's  merciful  forgive- 
ness is  boundless. 

.  The  orb  of  day  finally  sank  behind  the  hills  of  Judea 
with  a  resplendent  glory,  little  in  keeping  with  the  deso- 
lation on  every  hand.     In  the  twilight  we  strolled  back 


Well  Inside  the  Area  of  the  Old  Temple.    Arabs  Drawing 

Water  for  Their  Ablutions  Before  Entering 

Mosque  of  Omar 


to  the  city-gate,  much  impressed  by  the  solemnity  of  the 
hour  and  place. 

The  following  morning  we  went  to  liethlehcm, — not  a 
severe  tax  upon  our  strength,  because  we  hired  a  carriage. 


2o6  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

After  leaving-  the  rocky  eminence  of  the  Holy  City,  we 
passed  farms,  olive  groves,  and  grain  fields  under  culti- 
vation. The  village  actually  looked  prosperous,  and 
the  houses  better  than  any  we  saw  in  Palestine.  It  is 
a  Christian  community,  very  few  Mohammedans  or  Jews 
dwelling  there.  We  went  direct  to  the  old  basilica,  built 
on  the  site  of  the  traditional  cave  in  which  Christ  was 
born. 

''St.  Jerome's  belief  that  the  place  of  the  Nativity  was 
a  grotto  in  the  side  of  a  cliff,  was  accepted  by  the  build- 
ers of  this  memorial,"  I  explained. 

"Wallace,  in  'Ben  Hur,'  takes  the  same  tradition,"  add- 
ed Doris.  "The  caves  along  the  side  of  this  hill  recall 
those  we  saw  in  Italy,  between  Naples  and  Rome,  and 
up  the  Nile." 

We  entered  the  basilica,  and  stood  before  the  niche 
in  which  Christ  was  born.  A  silver  star,  above  which 
sixteen  lamps  are  always  aglow,  marks  the  exact  spot! 
I  gazed  at  this  bit  of  white  metal  with  interest  other 
than  religious. 

"This  is  the  silver  star,"  I  said,  thoughtfully,  "that 
Kinglake,  in  the  remarkable  preface  to  his  History  of 
the  Crimean  War,  declares  to  be  the  key  to  the  entire 
Eastern  Question— a  dispute  that  has  bankrupted  half 
the  nations  of  Europe ;  that  compels  the  maintenance  of 
millions  of  armed  soldiery;  that  sustains  the  Empire  of 
'The  Unspeakable  Turk'  as  neutral  ground,  and  defeats 
Russia's  hope  of  occupying  Constantinople;  that  contin- 
ues the  retrogression  of  Syria  and  Asia  Minor,  and  com- 
pels England's  occupation  of  Egypt  as  a  defensive  meas- 


WAILING  PLACE,  WHERE  THE  JEWS  CO  EVERY  FRIDAY 
TO  LAMENT  THEIR  MISFORTUNES:  THE  IMMENSE  BLOCKS 
WERE  PART  OF  THE  ORIGINAL  TEMPLE 


2o8  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

ure !     Surely  nothing  else  in  all  Palestine  possesses  equal 
potentiality  affecting  the  destiny  of  the  human  race." 

St.  Jerome's  tomb  occupies  a  recess  in  this  church ; 
here  he  passed  several  years.  The  present  Church  of  the 
Nativity  dates  from  the  fourth  century,  and  is  simple, 
though  massive,  in  design.  Shabby  now,  its  ex- 
terior was  originally  decorated  with  mosaics  and  inlaid 
work. 

"The  business  of  Bethlehem  consists  chiefly  in  making 
and  selHng  relics  to  believers,"  commented  Mrs.  Went- 
worth,  after  inspecting  shops  and  factories,  wherein  the 
workmen  were  using  the  most  primitive  tools  and  were 
accomplishing  but  very  meagre  results. 

We  then  drove  to  the  oldest  town  in  Palestine, — He- 
bron,— where  is  the  oak  under  which  Sheik  Abraham 
pitched  his  tent  4,000  years  before.  His  tomb  and  that  of 
Isaac  is  as  real  as  anything  in  Egypt — the  tomb  bazaar  of 
the  world ;  but  a  mosque  stands  over  the  Cave  of  Macpe- 
lah;  and  it  cost  us  an  Egyptian  pound  and  bakshish  for 
slippers  to  enter.  And  we  were  not  permitted  to  see  any- 
thing but  the  door  of  the  tomb.  A  halt  was  made  at  the 
Pool  of  Hebron,  on  one  side  of  which  was  a  structure  re- 
sembling an  old  mill,  the  water  very  clear,  and  the 
number  of  unwashed  Turks  lounging  about  its  curb 
large. 

A  modern  building  with  a  plastered  dome  covers  the 
grave  of  Rachel,  which,  like  Abraham's  resting-place,  is 
revered  equally  by  Moslem  and  Christian. 

The  pretty,  green  farms  surrounding  Bethlehem, 
were  the  most  luxuriant  bits  of  vegetation  we  had  met 


RACHEL'S  TOMB,  EQUALLY  REVERED  BY  CHRISTIAN 
AND  MOSLEM  :  DISTANT  VIEW  OF  BETHLEHEM  ON 
THE  HILLSIDE  AT  THE  RIGHT 


2IO  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

since  leaving  the  Delta  of  the  Nile.  A  last  view  of  the 
village  was  had  from  the  crest  of  a  hill. 

A  trip  to  the  Dead  Sea,  though  but  a  matter  of  twenty 
miles,  is  magnified  into  an  arduous  undertaking  by  drag- 
omen and  tourist-managers.  They  always  travel  with 
tents  and  camp-equipage,  and  make  a  two  or  three  days' 
pilgrimage.  Securing  good  saddle-horses,  in  preference 
to  carriages,  we  made  the  journey  without  serious  dis- 
comfort between  dawn  and  darkness. 

Leaving  the  Jafifa  Gate  as  the  sun  rose  behind  us,  we 
made  a  half-circuit  of  Jerusalem,  descending,  as  we  did 
so,  into  the  Valley  of  Jehoshaphat,  crossing  the  Kedron, 
and  skirting  the  southern  base  of  the  Mount  of  Olives, 
through  Bethany  toward  Jericho,  like  "a  certain  man  who 
went  down"  before  us. 

"This  is  the  rockiest  road  in  all  creation,"  said  Blake, 
as  we  picked  our  way  tediously  among  large  boulders 
that  encumbered  the  path.  "A  week's  work,  properly  di- 
rected, would  clear  away  these  rocks.  I'd  like  to  be  road- 
commissioner  for  a  month." 

"It's  dangerous  to  be  a  reformer  in  the  Sultan's  do- 
minions," said  I,  as  I  turned  aside  for  a  boulder  the  size 
of  a  large  dry-goods  box. 

"A  50  horse-power  motor  would  be  necessary  to  drive 
a  tram-car  up  this  grade ;  but  an  electric  trolley  is  the 
remedy  needed  here,"  was  Blake's  reply. 

We  rode  down  the  steep  hill,  which  Christ  ascended  on 
his  last  journey  to  Jerusalem  from  Jericho, — where  he 
had  healed  the  two  blind  men.  The  "Inn  of  the  Good 
Samaritan"  is  a  wretched  little  khan  where  we  couldn't 


THE  STREET  OF  SORROWS.  ALONG  WHICH  CHRIST  BORE  TK£ 
CROSS:  NEAR  THE  FIFTH  STATION  AND  AT  THE  ARCH  WHERE 
THE   WORDS  WERE  UTTERED:  "BEHOLD  THE  MAN  I   ' 


212  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

find  anything  to  drink,  so  we  pushed  on  to  the  Fountain 
of  Elisha,  eight  miles  from  our  destination. 

The  Dead  Sea  Hes  1,300  feet  below  sea-level,  or  4,300 
feet  below  Jerusalem,  and  the  descent  is  principally  in 
the  last  sixteen  miles.  We  made  a  detour  to  get  a 
glimpse  of  the  River  Jordan. 

"1  am  disappointed  at  its  size,"  said  Blake,  when  we 
sat  our  horses  on  the  brow  of  a  hill  overlooking  the 
sacred  stream.  ''It  isn't  much  over  a  hundred  feet  wide, 
though  it  is  running  like  a  mill-race." 

The  "stormy  banks"  of  Jordan  were  rugged,  rocky 
hills,  with  abundant  verdure  at  the  water's  edge.  We 
found  a  party  of  tourists  filling  bottles  from  the  sacred 
stream. 

An  hour's  ride  brought  us  to  the  beach  of  the  Dead  Sea. 
Blake  and  I  hurried  to  the  shore.  Both  of  us  having 
brought  a  bathing  suit,  we  found  shelter,  and  were  soon 
arrayed  as  if  at  Cape  May  or  Newport. 

"Jupiter !     How  cold  the  water  is !"  exclaimed  Blake. 

"Yes,"  I  answered,  shivering;  "but  we  can't  drown, 
if  we  do  get  the  cramp.     There  is  something  in  that." 

"Ugh  !  Don't  swallow  this  water,"  gasped  my  compan- 
ion, sputtering.     "You'll  never  recover  from  the  thirst." 

It  was  not  a  pleasant  bath.  A  peculiar  stinging  sensa- 
tion was  felt  over  our  entire  bodies.  Water  dripping 
from  our  hair  left  white  streaks  down  our  cheeks.  Our 
bathing-suits  dried  as  rough  as  sackcloth. 

On  the  return- journey,  we  were  besieged  by  several 
lepers,  just  outside  the  city-gate.  They  had  left  their 
miserable  huts  to  importune  us  for  alms.  The  ladies 
were  horrified  at  the  awful  appearance  of  these  unfortu- 


JERUSALEM  FROM  THE  NORTH,  SHOWING  THE 
CHARACTER  OF  THE  HOUSES,  AND  THE  SPIRES 
OF  THE   CHRISTIAN  CHURCHES 


214  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

nate  creatures,  and  we  hastened  to  bestow  all  the  small 
money  we  had  with  us.  They  were  still  persistent,  and 
our  dragoman  then  drove  them  away  with  stones :  the 
natives  waste  little  sympathy  on  these  stricken  outcasts. 

We  reached  our  hotel  at  dark,  tired  and  dusty  after 
our  long  ride,  but  well-pleased.  Dinner  tasted  good  that 
night. 

"After  dinner  I  always  feel  better,"  murmured  Blake. 
"It  sounds  carnal  to  a  degree,  and  gluttonous  to  an  abase- 
ment ;  but  it's  the  truth." 

Having  still  two  days  before  our  return  to  Jaffa,  we 
went  to  the  Church  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre,  identified 
with  those  misguided  destroyers  of  human  life  known  as 
the  Crusaders.  Taking  the  New  Testament  for  a  guide 
(open  at  the  nth  chapter  of  St.  John),  we  strolled 
about  Bethany,  called  at  the  humble  dwelling  of  Mar- 
tha and  Mary,  and  walked  thence  to  the  tomb  of  Lazarus. 

The  inclination  to  write  of  the  view  of  Jerusalem  from 
the  Mount  of  Olives,  as  seen  on  the  return-ride  from 
Bethany,  is  well-nigh  irresistible.  The  Holy  City  lay 
at  our  feet ;  we  could  gaze  into  the  courts  of  the  Mosque 
of  Omar,  and  count  the  people  walking  there  ! 

How  glad  we  were  to  leave  Jerusalem  and  its  dirty 
streets!  An  Austrian  boat  carried  us  from  Jaffa  down 
the  coast  to  Port  Said,  where  we  caught  a  North  German 
Lloyd  steamer  from  China  and  Japan.  After  four  de- 
lightful days  on  the  Mediterranean,  repassing  the  Strait 
of  Messina  and  smoking  Stromboli,  we  again  reached 
Naples, 

Quite  unlike  ^neas,  "we  came  to  Italy  and  the  Lavin- 
ian  shores." 


THE    BEAUTIFUL    BAY  OF    NAPLES,    WITH    VESUVIUS    IN    THE    DISTANCE 


Chapter  Fifteen 


La  Bella  Naooli 


U(. 


w 


ATCH  your  lug"gage  at  Naples!"  ought  to 
be  inscribed  over  the  landing-stage. 
The  fiercest,  greediest  gang  of  facchi- 
nos  found  anywhere  on  the  Mediter- 
ranean coast  stands  ready  to  seize  your  traps.  If  you  are 
not  watchful,  a  porter  will  have  to  be  paid  for  handling 
each  package,  however  small.  Mrs.  Wentworth's  hat-box 
weighed  two  pounds,  but  a  man  insisted  on  payment  for 
carrying  it  ashore.  The  diigano  gave  no  trouble,  and 
to  avoid  worry  from  the  cab-drivers,  we  took  a  stage  to 
our  hotel. 

The  sun  was  warm  as  May,  though  the  month  was 
March.  Neapolitans  live  in  the  streets,  and  the  Toledo 
was  overflowing  with  a  freshet  of  human  life.  This  fine 
thoroughfare  ends  at  the  Piazza,  around  which  is  grouped 
the  Royal  Palace,  the  San  Carlo  theatre,  and  the  Oalleria 
Umberto.  There  is  als(j  llic  ])rcttiest  church  in  Naples, 
San    Francesco    di     I'acjla, — another    imitation    of    the 

215 


2i6  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

"heathen"  Pantheon,  decorated  with  the  peristyle-ap- 
proach to  St.  Peter's.  The  Toledo  is  the  gayest  street 
in  Europe-,  outside  of  Paris  and  its  Boulevards. 

"Apartments  are  to  let  in  nearly  every  house,"  said 
Blake. 

"When  I  tell  you  tiiat  the  port  of  Genoa  does  seven 
times  the  business  of  Naples,  though  the  city  has  hardly 
more  than  a  third  of  its  population,  you  can  understand 
how  great  must  be  the  sufifering  here,  due  to  the  scarcity 
of  work,"  I  replied. 

The  best  restaurants  of  the  new  city  are  German,  in 
which  Wiener  schnitzel  and  Frankfurter  sausage  are 
better  served  than  raviuoli  or  spaghetti ;  to  find  Italian 
cooking,  one  must  seek  the  old  town,  lying  between  the 
Toledo  and  the  bay. 

"Shopping  in  Naples  is  a  delight,"  said  Mrs.  Went- 
worth  at  dinner  that  evening.  "I  am  working  ofif  the 
meanness  in  my  nature.  I  must  have  had  a  bartering 
ancestor." 

"I  feared  my  grandmother  had  been  a  bum-boat  wom- 
an when  I  heard  you  offer  forty  lira  for  a  hat  quoted  at 
ninety,"  said  Doris,  petulantly. 

"Eg>'pt  prepared  me  for  an  encounter  with  these  pi- 
rates." 

"I  should  think  so;  you  hardened  my  heart,"  rejoined 
Doris.     "But  did  you  get  the  hat?" 

"It  wasn't  much  of  an  affair, — only  fit  to  travel  in," 
answered  her  mother;  "but  it  is  in  my  room.  When  I 
left  that  shop,  I  wrote  my  hotel  address  on  a  card  and 
named  forty-five  lira  as  my  final  offer.  The  hat  reached 
here  before  I  did." 


TOLEDO  STREET,  THE  GREAT  TRADE  ARTERY 
OF  NAPLES,  WHERE  EVERYBODY  WALKS  IN 
THE  COOL  OF  THE   EVENING 


2i8  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

'"I  wish  you'd  teach  me  how  to  buy  sweet  chocolate  at 
the  same  rate,"  said  Doris.  "For  the  first  time  in  my 
life,  I  feel  that  it  is  an  expensive  luxury." 

"So  it  is,  in  Italy,  where  the  necessities  of  life,  not  the 
luxuries,  are  taxed.     Imagine  a  duty  on  salt !" 

"The  Neapolitans  are  born  smugglers,  and  they  can't 
be  blamed,"  was  my  contention.  "Masaniello's  wife 
was  caught  bringing  flour  into  Naples  in  her  stockings, 
and  the  city  diigano  has  been  suspicious  of  fish- women 
to-  this  day.  Neapolitans  of  Masaniello's  time  felt  the 
tyranny  of  Spain,  just  as  did  the  Cubans.  Our  hearts 
went  out  to  the  latter,  and  we  must  justify  the  revolt  led 
by  the  young  fisherman  against  the  persecutions  of  his 
fellow-countrymen." 

"He  was  king  for  eight  days, — then  the  headsman," 
said  Mr.  Blake. 

"Yes ;  but,  like  John  of  Leyden,  he  was  immortalized 
in  an  opera,"  retorted  Doris. 

"Speaking  of  opera,  'Masaniello'  will  be  sung  to- 
night at  the  San  Carlo,"  I  resumed.  "The  advertise- 
ments say  that  'real  fishermen  and  women  from  Portici 
will  be  added  to  the  chorus  for  pictorial  effect.'  " 

"How  delightful !"  exclaimed  the  matron  of  our  party. 
"I  once  heard  'Carmen'  at  Madrid  with  the  veritable 
espada  of  Grenada  and  his  attendant  chulos,  banderil- 
leros.and  picadores  in  the  parade  that  opens  the  last  act. 
We  must  go  to-night." 

"You  will  use  my  cabs,"  said  Blake.  "I  have  hired 
two  while  we  stay  in  town,  at  twelve  lira  a  day !  The 
men  are  in  livery,  and  the  horses  are  'good-lookers.'  Did 
you  ever  hear  of  anything  so  cheap?" 


TYPICAL  TENEMENTS,  FACING  THE  MARINA 
OR  LANDING  STAGE.  IN  NAPLES  (CALLED 
THE  ARCHES  OF  ACTEOJ 


220  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

"How  did  you  put  in  the  afternoon?"  asked  Doris, 
addressing  Blake. 

"While  you  ladies  were  shopping,  I  drove  out  the  Po- 
silipo  road,  visiting  Virgil's  tomb  oi  route,"  he  replied. 
"Can  you  imagine  the  grave  of  the  author  of  the  ^^^neid 
in  the  fruit-garden  of  a  Frenchman  ?  It  was  a  lucky 
hour  for  the  present  owner  of  the  ground  when  Virgil 
directed  that,  after  death,  his  ashes  be  taken  from  Brun- 
dusium  to  Naples.  The  poet  assured  him  an  income  of 
twenty  to  thirty  liras  per  day.  The  garden  has  grown 
rank,  but  the  tomb  is  a  paying  property." 

"That  recalls  the  ostrich  farm  at  Heliopolis,"  inter- 
jected Mrs.  Wentworth.  "The  managers  of  that  indus- 
try probably  make  more  money  by  charging  admission 
than  by  selling  feathers." 

"I  entered  the  small  vaulted  chamber,"  continued 
Blake,  "and  while  trying  to  feel  proper  reverence  for  my 
surroundings,  a  keeper  in  a  blue  blouse  attempted  to  sell 
me  some  Roman  coins  'found  on  the  spot.'  Had  I 
known  the  oath  with  which  Boccaccio  foreswore  trade 
for  poetry,  at  that  identical  place,  I'd  have  used  it  vigor- 
ously. The  laurel  planted  by  Petrarch  died  long  ago, 
and  the  urn  containing  Virgil's  ashes  has  been  mislaid ; 
but  the  tomb  is  a  shrine.  I  emerged,  covered  with  dust, 
but  saturated  with  reverence." 

"Howells  likens  Virgil's  tomb  to  'a  spring-house  on  an 
Ohio  farm,'  I  remember,"  was  my  comment.  "Virgil 
was  a  farmer-boy.  His  best  verse  deals  with  country 
Hfe." 

"If  we  are  going  to  the  opera,"  said  Blake,  giving  the 
conversation  a  new  turn,  "I'll  drive  round  for  a  box." 


A  QUAINT  OLD  STREET  IN  NAPLES,  THE  VIA 
DI  CHIAIA,  INTO  WHICH  THE  SUNLIGHT  PENE- 
TRATES ONLY  AT  HIGH    NOON 


22  2  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

"No,  no,"  protested  Mrs.  Wentworth.  "Get  stalls. 
You  remember  how  excellent  the  eight-lira  seats  are. 
Doris  and  I  haven't  time  or  inclination  to  dress  for  a 
box." 

The  Portici  fisher-people  were  on  the  stage, — as  prom- 
ised,— ^but  the  subdued  colors  of  their  costumes  gave  a 
somber,  rather  than  gay,  tone  to  scenes  that  are  usuallv  so 
bright  with  reds  and  yellows.  The  Neapolitan  costume 
of  the  stage  and  of  modern  pictorial  art  is  not  the  real 
thing.  Another  disillusionment !  but  one  that  was  satis- 
factory rather  than  otherwise. 

The  hour  was  late  when  we  drove  home,  for  the  tro- 
vatori  were  moving  along  the  streets,  like  fire-flies,  hunt- 
ing with  swinging  lanterns  for  cigar-ends  and  lost  ar- 
ticles. 

The  Neapolitans  are  the  most  interesting  study  in 
Naples.  Donning  a  golf  suit,  Doris  roamed,  camera  in 
hand,  through  the  old  part  of  the  town  during  the  days 
that  followed.  She  found  a  characteristic  street,  the 
Via  di  Chiaia,  back  of  the  Piazza  die  Martiri,  and  made 
a  picture  of  the  busy  terrace-way  when  the  sun  was  at  the 
zenith. 

One  afternoon  we  drove  to  the  Peoples'  Garden,  where 
an  audience  of  rag-pickers  and  trovatori,  resting  before 
their  night's  toil,  listened  enraptured  to  public  readers 
declaiming  Tasso  and  Dante.  This  enjoyment  and  edu- 
cation cost  them  a  soldo  each,  which  they  paid  willingly. 
A  funeral  procession  was  encountered  on  the  way  back ; 
but  the  corpse  had  been  buried  the  preceding  day  in  the 
public  pit.     What  we  saw  was  a  revel,  headed  by  friends 


SORRENTO  STANDS  ON  A  HIGH  BLUFF,  WITH 
MOUNTAINS  FOR  A  BACKGROUND.  AND  IS  A 
BOWER  OF  ILEX  AND  LEMON  TREES 


224  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

of  the  dead  in  fantastic  masks.  The  bier,  with  its  bright- 
ly embroidered  pall,  was  rented  for  the  carouse. 

Packing  our  hand-bags,  we  took  train  for  Castellam- 
mare,  whence  we  drove  along  a  high  road  of  unusual 
excellence  and  beauty  ten  miles  to  Sorrento.  We  en- 
tered the  home  of  Tasso  through  avenues  of  ilex,  after 
having  crossed  a  deep  ravine.  Its  hotels  are  as  good  as 
those  of  Naples.  Its  houses  are  gay  with  flowering 
vines  and  painted  frescoes. 

Mr.  Blake  and  the  ladies  took  donkeys  late  in  the 
afternoon,  and  traveled  two  miles  by  the  Massa  Road 
and  a  steep  path  on  its  left  to  the  Vigna  Sersale,  once 
the  home  of  Tasso's  sister.  Here  they  gained  a  glorious 
view  of  Capri  and  the  trembling  sea  between, — "tremo- 
lar  dcUa  marina"  of  Dante. 

The  dainty  saloon-steamer  "Nixie"  came  over  from 
Naples  next  morning,  as  it  comes  every  day,  on  its  way 
to  Capri.  We  descended  from  the  high  bluff  to  the 
landing  by  a  "lift,"  entered  a  dingy  on  the  beach,  and 
were  soon  aboard  the  "Nixie." 

The  run  to  the  Blue  Grotto,  on  the  north  side  of  Capri, 
occupied  less  than  an  hour's  time.  Small  boats,  carrying 
two  passengers  each,  conveyed  us  to  a  low  entrance  in 
the  face  of  the  precipitous  cliff. 

"Lie  down!"  commanded  our  bare-footed  oarsman, 
from  his  meager  stock  of  English.  We  hurriedly  knelt 
in  the  bottom  of  the  boat,  as  we  were  carried  on  the 
crest  of  a  wave  into  the  mystic  cavern. 

When  we  arose  inside,  our  eyes  were  dazzled  by  the 
opalescent-blue  glow  that  enveloped  us.  We  were  in  a 
dome-shaped  grotto,  its  walls  glittering  with  alabaster- 


IHt  rOWN  OK  CAPKl  CLINGS  'lU  IHh  CKh;;i  Ul-'  A 
ROCKY  SADDLE.  UNITING  TWO  TOWERING  HILLS; 
HERE  THE  NARROW  STREETS  ARE  SHOWN 


226  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

like  incrustations,  and  its  roof  studded  with  stalactites 
of  crystal. 

"I  feel  as  if  I  were  gorged  with  indigo,"  said  Blake. 

"Never  mind,"  laughed  Doris.  "We'll  be  patricians 
of  the  bluest  blood  when  we  escape." 

Seeing  a  boy  prepared  for  a  plunge  into  the  pellucid 
depths,  I  tossed  him  a  lira  and  he  immediately  dived  into 
the  water.     The  effect  was  weirdly  beautiful. 

"His  body  resembles  a  sparkling  sapphire !"  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Wentworth,  as  we  watched  the  swimmer  far  under 
the  surface. 

Landing  at  the  Marina,  we  drove  to  a  dream-land 
hotel  on  the  dizzy  heights  of  Capri.  The  town  is  a 
bazaar,  clinging  to  a  narrow  ridge,  or  "saddle."  that  con- 
nects two  mountain-peaks.  Art  is  the  patron  divinity. 
Studios  crowd  each  other  in  every  narrow  lane,  and 
models  loiter  in  the  dainty  piazza  seeking  engagement. 

The  landscapes  of  Capri  exceed  the  most  fanciful 
dreams :  painters  need  only  reproduce  the  scenes  before 
their  eyes. 

Capri  is  the  most  interesting  suburb  of  Naples,  after 
Pompeii.  It  lies  17  miles  south  of  that  city,  and  is  in  the 
path  of  steamers  entering  the  bay.  Its  population  is 
6.000,  about  equally  divided  betw^een  the  two  towns — 
Capri  and  Anacapri.  The  first  is  500  feet  above  the 
sea,  and  the  second,  1,000  feet.  Harassed  for  centuries 
by  the  Saracens,  its  people  retain  many  of  the  traits  of 
that  race.  Under  Bourbon  rule,  during  the  i8th  cen- 
tury, the  British  held  it  from  1806  to  1808.  Its  English 
governor  was  Colonel  (afterward  Sir  Hudson)  Lowe,  the 
custodian  of  Napoleon  at  St.  Helena.     The  humiliation 


ENTRANCE  TO  THE  BLUE  GROTTO  IS  THE  LOW 
OPENING  AT  THE  LEFT  CORNER:  THE  CLIFF  SIDE 
OF  CAPRI   IS   HERE   PORTRAYED 


2  28  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

of  a  prisoner,  helpless  in  his  hands,  would  appear  to 
have  been  the  real  measure  of  Lowe's  ability ;  for  he  was 
a  failure  at  Capri.  His  Palazzo  Inglese  is  still  shown, 
but  the  people  of  Capri  have  little  respect  for  his  name. 

Memories  of  Napoleon  exist  everywhere  along  this 
coast, — we  shall  see  Elba  and  Corsica  on  our  way  to 
Genoa. 

The  Caprians  are  very  hospitable  to  strangers.  Like 
country  folk  in  the  United  States,  they  always  speak 
in  passing — men  raise  their  hats,  women  smile  or  cour- 
tesy. Crime  is  exceptional,  and  drunkenness  unknown. 
Doors  are  never  locked.  Any  lost  articles  are  readily 
recovered  through  the  parish  priest.  If  there  ever  were 
any  beggars  on  the  island,  they  have  emigrated  to  Naples. 

Capri  is  a  delightful  place  to  rest  for  a  winter ;  the 
ciieapness  of  house-rent  and  food  is  phenomenal.  \\  e 
were  shown  pretty  villas,  surrounded  by  fig  and  orange 
trees,  to  be  rented,  furnished,  for  $25  a  month ! 

The  island  has  a  different  ramble  for  each  day  in  the 
year.  Less  than  an  hour's  walk  from  the  dainty  hotel 
where  we  dined,  are  the  Natural  Arch,  the  Grotto  Mi- 
tromania. — formerly  a  Temple  of  Mithras. — the  Grotto  of 
Castiglione,  studded  with  stalactites,  the  Peak  of  Bar- 
barossa,  i,rK)0  feet  above  the  sea,  the  Fern  Grotto,  occu- 
pied during  the  Stone  Age,  or  Porcello,  famous  for  its 
thrilling  view  of  Ischia. 

While  the  ladies  rested  at  the  hotel,  Blake  and  I 
climbed  to  the  Villa  of  Tiberius,  interesting  as  the  hid- 
ing place  of  the  crafty  emperor,  where  he  spent  weeks 
at  a  time  devising  new  cruelties  and  debaucheries.     Here 


La  Bella  Napoli  229 

the  old  tyrant  dwelt  the  last  ten  years  of  his  miserahle 
life. 

When  the  boat  left  Capri,  we  intended  to  return  direct 
to  Naples,  but  we  disembarked  at  Sorrento,  and  drove 
across  the  terraced  peninsula  to  Anialti.  This  is  the 
quaintest  town  in  Italy,  with  its  cathedral  of  the  eleventh 
centurv  in  the  Lombard-Xorman  style,  and  its  Capuchin 
monastery,  now  used  as  a  hotel.  Many  of  the  old  struc- 
tures literally  hang  to  the  face  of  the  rocky  slopes.  Ev- 
erybody we  met  pointed  out  the  landslide  of  a  few  years 
before.  It  will  become  an  ever-pertinent  topic,  like  the 
disaster  in  the  Crawford  Notch  of  the  White  Moun- 
tains. 

From  Amalfi.  we  went  by  catriag^e  to  La  Cava,  over  the 
most  wonderful  diligence-road  in  Europe,  hewn  in  the 
clifif-side  nearly  the  whole  way.  and  100  feet  above  the 
sea. 

A  train  carried  us  back  to  Naples  in  less  than  three 
hours. 


GENERAL  VIEW  OF  POMPEII.  WITH  VESUVIUS  IN  THE 
DISTANCE:  WE  ARE  LOOKING  DOWN  THE  STREET 
OF  FORTUNE,   FROM   THE  FORUM 


AMPHITHEATRE    WHERE   GLAUCUS   STOOD    WHEN     THE     ERUPTION    OF   VESUVIUS    BEGAN 

Chapter  Sixteen 
Ambition  Dead  and  Buried 


P(  ).\1 1'l'".!  I  is  more  interesting^  tlian  Naples;  ev- 
ery store  there  has  its  special  lesson.  With 
a  realism  that  approaches  cruelty,  the  daily 
life  and  social  habits  of  the  Pompeians  of 
the  first  century  are  laid  bare  as  with  the  sur- 
geon's scalpel.  The  little  city  filled  no  ])lace  in  his- 
tory. Its  insignificance  was  so  marked  that  the  people 
of  the  neighboring  towns  overlooked  its  destruction,  and 
an  indifferent  world  waited  seventeen  himdred  \ears  be- 
fore beginning  its  exhumation.  Three-quarters  of  the 
town  are  still  underground. 

The  best  way  to  visit  Pompeii  is  to  drive  along  the 
Marinella  to  Portici.  beyond  which  stood  Merculaneum. 
It  is  a  paved  road  the  entire  distance;  decorated  with 
macaroni  hung  out  to  dry.  Three  hours  in  the  buried 
city  are  ample.  It  stands  upon  a  hill-side,  three  hundred 
feet  above  the  sea,  and  you  enter  thnnigh  an  avenue 
made  beautiful  by  j)lants  and  shrubbery. 

23' 


232  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

We  started  earl}-,  and  at  the  gate  to  Pompeii  boug-ht 
our  tickets,  at  two  lira  each;  quite  Hke  taking  places  for 
a  morning-  theatrical  performance.  We  ascended  a  wind- 
ing slope,  which  might  have  led  to  an  orange  grove,  but 
actually  took  us  from  the  twentieth  century  directly  into 
the  first.  Narrow  alleys,  similar  to  the  older  streets  of 
Naples,  on  the  stones  of  which  were  seen  the  deep  im- 
prints of  chariot  wheels,  conducted  us  past  the  Museum 
to  the  Forum,  from  which  our  walk  over  Pompeii  began. 

Like  Rome,  this  suburb  of  Naples  had  its  open  square, 
where  its  orators  spoke,  and  its  people  met  to  discuss  pol- 
itics and  domestic  life.  How  natural!  Hasn't  every 
country-town  in  America  or  England  its  Common  and 
its  town  pump,  where  the  villagers  assemble?  The  an- 
cients required  a  Forum.  Around  this  one,  the  Oscans 
built  Pompeii,  and  the  fierce  Samnites  who  conquered  it 
didn't  interfere  with  the  Temple  of  Justice  or  the 
churches,  because  they  knew  no  justice  but  that  of  the 
sword,  and  no  protecting  divinity  save  their  strong  right 
arms.  Pompeii  was  probably  of  Greek  origin,  because 
it  possessed  a  temple  to  Hercules,  undoubtedly  Hellenic, 
and  certainly  built  650  B.  C, — limiting  the  history  of 
Pompeii  to  seven  hundred  years.  During  that  time,  it 
was  besieged,  sacked,  and  fin?.lly  gathered  under  the  pro- 
tecting wing  of  the  Romans,  who  restored  it  (after  the 
earthquakes  of  63  A.  D.)  in  time  for  its  utter  destruction, 
sixteen  years  later,  when  the  ashes  of  Vesuvius,  moist 
with  scalding  rain,  sealed  and  preserved  it. 

Ruin  everywhere,  but  the  ground-plans  of  the  houses 
are  always  obvious.  The  dwellings  were  generally 
small,    mostly    of    concrete    or    brick,    without    exterior 


STREET  OF  ABBONDANZA,  SHOWING  WELL  AT 
LEFT,  THAT  LED  TO  ANCIENT  AQUEDUCT,  IN 
WHICH    WATER   IS   STILL  FLOWING 


234  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

adornment,  windovvless  and  devoid  of  modern  comforts. 
The  arrangement  of  the  rooms  was  much  alike : — a  recep- 
tion hall,  at  the  street  door;  beyond,  a  salon  that  gave 
upon  the  mosaic-paved  open  court  with  its  fountain  and 
flowers ;  at  one  side  of  this  court  the  dining-hall,  the 
kitchen  in  a  corner,  behind  a  screen,  and  mere  niches  for 
sleeping  purposes  (rarely  protected  from  intrusion  by 
doors).  Like  the  thrifty  Italian  of  to-day,  the  Pompeians 
often  leased  the  ground  floors  of  his  dwelling  for  shops. 
The  marble  counters,  across  which  the  wares  were  sold, 
stand  there  to  this  hour.  Street  signs  were  rare,  but 
political  notices  were  common.  Blank  walls  faced  the 
thoroughfares  in  the  poorer  quarter,  but  such  windows 
as  opened  on  the  streets  were  barred  with  iron,  as  in  the 
continental  cities  of  our  time. 

The  Pompeians  have  been  maligned  because  several 
houses  of  evil  repute  existed  in  their  town.  These  are 
always  pointed  out  as  characteristic  of  the  people.  The 
injustice  of  this  need  not  be  dwelt  upon.  New  York  is 
not  to  be  judged  by  the  "Tenderloin,"  or  London  by 
the  Haymarket  district ! 

Entering  the  Street  of  Fortune,  we  had  a  fine  view 
of  the  volcano  that  destroyed  Pompeii.  There,  too, 
stood  many  pedestals  for  the  reception  of  statues  never 
erected.  On  one  side,  was  the  Temple  of  Mercury,  with 
its  fine  altar;  on  the  other,  the  curia,  or  town  hall,  a 
Temple  of  Augustus,  and  a  triumphal  arch  from  which 
the  marble  coating  has  been  removed.  Crossing  the 
Forum,  we  ascended  a  few  steps  to  the  Temple  of  Ju- 
piter,   and    after    contemplating    its    splendid    propor- 


Ambition  Dead  and  Buried 


■JD 


tions,  no  other  public  places  of  Pompeii  particularly  im- 
pressed us. 

"I  am  especially  anxious  to  see  the  House  of  Glau- 
cus  with  which  Buhver  has  made  us  so  familiar,"  said 


Mills  for  Grinding  Maize,  and  Bake-oven  in  Which  a  Sucking  Pig 
WAS  Roasting  at  the  Time  of  the  Catastrophe 


Doris;  "thouj^h  I  am  sure  nothing  else  can  he  so  real 
as  these  ruts  in  the  streets,  left  by  the  heavy  wheels  of  the 
chariots." 

"More  real  by  far  was  the  cast  of  that  poor  wc^man's 
body  we  saw  in  the  Museum,"  replied  Mrs.  W'entworth. 
"I  heard  her  cry  of  agony ;  I  almost  gasped  f(^r  breath 
myself  as  I  stood  beside  her." 

A  short  walk  brought  us  to  the  House  of  the  Tragic 


236  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

I'oet,  better  known  as  the  "House  of  Glaucus,"  having 
on  the  Hoor  of  its  vestibule  a  copy  of  the  famous  black- 
and-white-mosaic  watch-dog,  and  the  words  "Cave  Ca- 
nem !"  The  original  has  been  removed  to  the  Naples 
Museum.  This  house  abounds  in  mural  paintings,  hav- 
ing the  Homeric  poems  for  their  subjects.  Nearby 
stands  the  House  of  Pansa.  \  isitors  to  Saratoga  are 
familiar  with  an  exact  copy  of  it.  Its  floors  have  been 
restored  to  their  original  condition  in  the  days  of  the 
owner,  and  its  gardens  filled  with  flowering  plants. 

In  the  near  neighborhood,  is  the  House  of  Sallust, 
still  containing  frescoes  of  Greek  and  Roman  divinities. 
Next  door  is  a  bakery,  but  not  the  oven,  where  the  loaves 
of  bread  were  found  in  the  oven.  On  the  same  side  of 
the  street  is  "the  Custom  House,"  so-called  because  it 
contained  scales  and  weights,  and  "the  Surgeon's  Ofiice" 
(wherein  were  scalpels),  probably  one  of  the  oldest 
structures  of  the  city ;  for  its  fagade  was  of  massive 
stones,  set  without  mortar. 

Returning  toward  the  center  of  the  town,  we  called  at 
the  home  of  Meleager,  exceptional  in  its  decoration  be- 
cause the  Pompeian  red  is  nowhere  visible,  but  an  inner 
colonnade  is  painted  in  two  shades  of  brown  and  yellow. 
Not  far  away  is  a  wine-shop  ready  for  business,  just  as 
if  its  proprietor  were  absent  at  luncheon. 

The  House  of  the  Faun  has  always  been  regarded  as 
the  show-place  of  Pompeii,  and  must  have  been  the  home 
of  a  wealthy  man  ;  for.  when  found,  it  contained  exquisite 
art-treasures.  Tt  occupied  an  entire  block  and  had  a 
large  garden.  The  owmer's  wine- jars  had  been  filled 
just  prior  to  the  overwhelming  calamity ;  and  these  en- 


HOUSE  OF  VhTI  I  :  I  Hh  LA  I  hS  1  hACAVA  lED  (IVOl) 
CONTAINING  SOME  BEAUTIFUL  STATUARY  AND 
MURAL   PAINTINGS.    THE   ROOF  IS   NEW 


238  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

abled  savants  to  fix  the  date  of  the  destruction  of  Pom- 
peii. 

"The  dead  past"  is  a  trite  phrase,  but  at  Pompeii  it 
gets  a  new  meaning.  There  the  voice  of  the  Past  is 
heard  as  nowhere  else,— not  even  at  Philse  or  Karnak. 
At  the  Temple  of  Isis,  on  the  Sacred  Isle.  I  could  see 
the  priests  moving  about,  and  smell  the  burning  flesh 
upon  the  sacrificial  altar ;  but  at  Pompeii  I  could  hear 
voices,  just  around  the  corner,  driving  bargains  in  ses- 
terces. I  was  part  of  the  real  work-a-day  existence  of 
eighteen  hundred  years  a-gone ! 

"I  am  bewitched, — covered  with  a  spell,"  whispered 
Doris  to  me. 

"The  aristocracy  of  Pompeii  let  their  basements  for  oil- 
and  wine-shops,  just  as  do  the  Dukes  and  Marquises  of 
Rome  at  present.  Fancy  the  Vanderbilt  palace  in  New 
York  with  a  bake  shop  in  its  basement !"  chuckled  Mr. 
Blake,  as  we  walked  across  a  muddy  field  to  see  the  am- 
phitheatre where  Glaucus  was  on  the  morning  of  the 
eruption. 

My  thoughts  were  occupied  by  a  curiosity  to  know 
what  kind  of  houses  we  were  treading  upon. 

We  listened  for  an  echo  of  the  past,  which  did  not  come. 

The  National  ^Museum  at  Naples  is  a  supplement  to 
Pompeii ;  to  be  studied  after  the  City  of  Death ;  never  be- 
fore. 

After  luncheon,  at  a  hotel  outside  the  gate  of  Pompeii, 
we  drove  toward  Naples  as  far  as  Resina,  which  occu- 
pies the  site  of  Herculaneum.  Its  excavated  ruins  con- 
sist chiefly  of  a  theatre,  reached  by  a  descent  of  100  dark 


FORUM  OF  POMPEII,  FROM  THE  TEMPLE  OF 
JUPITER:  HERE  THE  PEOPLE  MET  TO  TALK 
POLITICS  AND  TO  GOSSIP 


240  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

steps  into  a  vast,  dismal,  cellar-like  auditorium,— the 
gloomiest  of  catacombs. 

Two  three-horse  carriages  were  engaged  at  Resina  for 
the  ascent  of  \'esuvius  to  the  Hermitage,  as  the  meter- 
ological  observatory  is  called.  Intent  upon  a  serious  con- 
versation with  Mrs.  Wentworth,  I  arranged  that  Mr. 
Blake  and  Doris  should  occupy  a  conveyance  to  them- 
selves. 

The  incidents  of  that  ride  cannot  be  recounted  in  detail. 
To  hint  at  their  importance  to  me,  I  feel  would  be  almost 
craven.  For  the  first  time  in  more  than  a  month  Lou- 
ise Wentworth  and  I  were  alone  together.  During  our 
stay  in  Egypt  I  never  had  been  able  to  have  a  private  talk 
with  her.  She  was  always  courteous,  but  persistently 
evasive. 

Had  not  Blake's  infatuation  obscured  his  vision,  he 
might  have  given  me  some  of  my  own  advice  about 
creating  opportunity. 

As  the  team  slowly  climbed  the  mountain,  I  made  the 
most  of  my  advantages.  With  the  ardor  of  youth  I 
urged  my  cause,  but  without  success. 

"Doris  occupies  the  first  place  in  my  heart  at  this  mo- 
ment," Louise  finally  said.  "LTntil  she  is  married,  I  can- 
not even  promise  to  return  your  affection,  Mr.  North." 

"But  your  daughter  is  engaged  to  marry  Blake,"  I 
answered,  almost  desperately. 

"She  is;  and  I  thoroughly  approve  the  match.  But 
the  unforeseen  often  happens.  When  Doris  is  Mrs.  Ver- 
non Blake,  you  may  renew  this  conversation,  if  you  like. 
Let  us  change  the  subject?" 

Though  admirably  built,  the  Government  road  is  tor- 


STRhET  OK  THE  SEPULCHkhS,  Al'  POMPEII, 
ALMOST  A  REPLICA  OF  THE  APPIAN  WAY, 
OUTSIDE  THE   WALLS   OF   ROME 


242  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

tuous,  and  an  hour  was  consumed  before  we  reached  its 
end,  1200  feet  beyond  the  Hermitage,  where  additional 
tickets  had  to  be  bought,  to  proceed  over  a  private  way 
to  the  base  of  the  cable  line. 

During  that  carriage  ride,  we  passed  the  vineyards  of 
the  "Lacrima  Christi." 

The  view  of  the  sea  from  the  mountain-side  was  nearly 
as  fine  as  at  Gibraltar. 

Entering  the  cars  of  the  funicolari,  we  ascended  1,300 
feet  in  half  a  mile,  across  iridescent  lava-streams, 
(luides  took  possession  of  us  at  the  end  of  this  road, 
much  as  do  the  Bedouins  at  the  Pyramid  of  Cheops. 
The  final  climb,  through  the  cinders  and  slag,  was  ac- 
complished in  fifteen  minutes ;  but  it  was  "a  bad  quarter- 
hour"  for  Blake  and  me.  The  ladies  were  carried  up  in 
chairs.  A  strong  sea-breeze  blew  the  sulphurous  fumes 
eastward,  and  made  safe  our  journey  almost  to  the  cra- 
ter's edge.  A  few  extra  lira  induced  two  guides  to  take 
us  men  where  we  could  look  into  the  bowl  of  the  vol- 
cano. Its  bottom  was  crusted  over  except  at  two  vividly 
red  spots,  whence  issued  vaporous  flames  like  those  from 
the  top  of  a  blast  furnace. 

From  the  Hermitage  we  drove  to  Resina  in  one  car- 
riage, and  no  opportunity  occurred  in  which  to  renew 
my  conversation  with  Louise.  Badly  as  I  felt  then,  a 
careful  review  of  the  situation,  during  a  long  walk  that 
night,  in  the  moonlight  and  alone,  restored  my  peace  of 
mind. 

Bom  of  contemplation  was  a  plan  to  hasten  the  wed- 
ding of  Doris.  I'd  suggest  to  Blake,  at  the  first  oppor- 
tunitv,  that  he  insist  on  a  wedding  in  Northern  Ttalv. 


VhSUVlUS,  FROM  THE  HtkMriAGE  :  SHOWING  THE  NEW 
ROAD  THAT  FOLLOWS  THE  CREST  OF  A  RIDGE  TO  THE 
CABLE   RAILWAY  (ERUPTION  OF    1895) 


ST.    PETER  S   AND   TRAJAN  S  TOMB,    FROM    THE    TIBER 


Chapter  Seventeen 


Our  Debt  to  Paganism 


WHEN  we  reached  Rome,  it  was  to  visit  two 
cities  at  the  same  time, — pagan  and 
Christian.  After  beholding  the  vandaHsm 
of  the  Christians,  we  ceased  to  shudder 
at  the  brutalities  of  the  Romans.  Indeed,  we  experienced 
a  sincere  regret  that  Rome  had  not  been  sealed  like  Pom- 
peii, to  preserve  its  ancient  splendor  for  modern  eyes. 
Only  a  meager  idea  can  be  formed  of  the  real  streets  or 
the  social  customs  of  its  people.  The  Colosseum,  Arch 
of  Titus.  Baths  of  Caracalla,  the  Pantheon,  and  the 
Forum  are  practically  all  that  remain  of  ancient  Rome. 
A  fast  train,  leaving  Naples  shortly  after  noon,  reaches 
the  Eternal  City  at  dinner-time,  traversing  a  desolate 
and  generally  uninteresting  country,  if  we  may  except  the 
monastery  of  Monte  Cassino.  perched  on  a  rocky  crag 
where  only  the  shadow  of  the  Church  can  fall  upon 
it. 

We  landed  at  the  new  station  with  its  fine  fountain. 

244 


Our  Debt  to  Paganism  245 

The  ladies  had  secured  a  suite  of  apartments  in  an  old 
palace  in  the  Piazza  Poli.  Mr-.  Blake  and  I  taking;  rooms 
at  a  neat  little  hotel  nearby.  Our  ai^reement  was  to 
dine  together  every  night  at  a  restaurant  in  the  Piazza, 
after'  which  we  were  to  take  coffee  at  the  popular  Cafe 
of  Rome  on  the  Corso.  'Slore  central  habitations  would 
have  been  impossible  to  find. 

For  a  long-  stay  in  Rome,  lodgings  are  indispensable. 
Every  house  in  Rome,  excepting  the  palaces  of  the  King, 
and  those  of  the  other  members  of  the  royal  family,  and 
that  of  the  Pope  and  of  the  cardinals,  if  not 
a  hotel,  has  its  lodgers.  Princes  who  drive 
four-in-hands,  and  whose  wives  are  women-in-wait- 
ing at  the  court,  have  no  compunctions  to  take 
whole  families  under  their  roofs.  The  splendid  palaces 
of  Borghese,  Doria.  and  Barberini.  with  their  magnifi- 
cent statuary  and  priceless  galleries  of  pictures,  have 
each  of  them  tenants  who  actually  pay  rent  to  the  noble 
landlords.  vStory.  the  American  sculptor  and  poet,  lived 
for  years  in  the  Barberini  Palace.  The  Bonapartes  at 
Rome,  following  the  example  of  the  natives,  let  lodgings 
at  their  villa,  and  at  their  city  house,  in  which  the  mother 
of  Xapoleon  I.  died  in  tS^^x  The  long  street  called  the 
Via  del  Corso,  extending  from  the  Piazza  del  Popolo 
to 'the  Piazza  \'enezia,  is  largelv  occupied  l)v  lodgers, 
the  ground  floors  given  up  to  shops. 

We  prepared  for  a  month's  stay,  including  Holy  Week. 

"Rome  is  one  of  the  cities  in  which  the  services  of  a 
guide  are  indisj^ensable,"'  said  Mrs.  Wentworth. 
'"Strangers  do  well  to  follow  Baedeker's  advice  to  spend 
the  first  day  in  a  carriage  along  a   route  that  he  sug- 


246  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

gests.  They  thus  gain  a  general  idea  of  the  city  and 
its  seven  hills.  After  that,  an  intelligent  guide  should  he 
engaged,  and  a  week  or  more  given  to  work.  /Vll  this 
must  be  preliminary  to  subsequent  examination  in  de- 
tail. Rome  has  400  churches !  Let  us  examine  a  score 
of  the  most  interesting  and  famous.  Suppose  we  study 
the  life  and  habits  of  the  ancient  Romans  before  we 
take  up  the  moderns.  Let  us  live  as  long  as  possible  in 
the  atmosphere  of  ancient  Rome,  not  attempting  to  sep- 
arate the  fabulous  from  the  actual." 

"It  isn't  worth  while,"  said  L  "One  kind  of  history 
is  as  good  as  another  at  Athens  and  Rome.  The  bar- 
barians who  went  about  destroying  records  added  to  the 
scope  of  future  historians.  What  the  Gauls  did  for 
Rome  360  years  after  it  was  founded.  Roman  interfer- 
ence in  the  affairs  of  Egypt,  48  B.  C,  did  for  Alexan- 
dria." 

History  is  filled  with  battles  that  never  were  fought. 

In  his  preface  to  "The  Lays  of  Ancient  Rome,"  Mac- 
auley  sums  up  the  early  history  of  the  Eternal  City,  in 
a  series  of  mental  pictures  : 

"Incidents  that  suggest  themselves  are  the  loves  of 
the  Vestal  and  the  God  of  War,  the  cradle  laid  among 
the  reeds  of  the  Tiber,  the  fig  tree,  the  she-wolf,  the  shep- 
herd's cabin,  the  recognition,  the  fratricide,  the  rape  of  the 
Sabines,  the  death  of  Tarpeia,  the  fall  of  Hostius  Hos- 
tihus,  the  struggle  of  Mettius  Curtius  through  the  march, 
the  women  rushing  with  torn  raiment  and  disheveled 
hair  between  their  fathers  and  their  husbands,  the  night- 
ly meetings  of  Numa  and  the  Nymph  by  the  well  in  the 
sacred  grove,  the  fight  of  the  three  Romans  and  the  three 


ANCIENT  CITY  OF  AMALFI  ;  SCENE  OF  A  RECENT 
LANDSLIDE.  ONE  OF  THE  QUAINTEST  PLACES 
IN  A   LAND   OF   ROMANCE 


248  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

Albans,  the  purchase  of  the  Sibylline  books,  the  crime 
of  Tullia,  the  simulated  madness  of  Brutus,  the  ambigu- 
ous reply  of  the  Delphian  oracle  to  the  Tarquins,  the 
wrongs  of  Lucretia,  the  heroic  actions  of  Horatius  Codes, 
of  Scsevola  and  of  Clolia,  the  battle  of  Regulus,  the  de- 
fence of  Cremera,  the  touching  story  of  Coriolanus,  the 
still  more  pathetic  tale  of  Virginia,  the  draining  of  the 
Alban  Lake,  the  combat  between  \'alerius  Corvus  and 
the  gigantic  Gaul." 

Like  the  Biblical  history  of  man,  the  story  of  ancieint 
Rome  began  with  the  murder  of  Remus  by  his  brother 
Romulus,  and  ey|r|'  page  of  its  subsequent  existence 
bears  the  blot  of  assassination  and  treachery. 

The  Palatine,  near  the  Colosseum,  was  the  "west  end" 
of  the  ancient  city,  whereawelt  the  aristocrats  who  made 
a  fad  of  every  vice,  but  trembled  when  the  sacred  chick- 
ens refused  to  eat.  Under  the  Republic,  as  under  the 
Empire,  slaves  were  tortured  to  death.  Senators  were 
condemned  to  obliteration  by  the  rulers,  and  the  chiefs 
of  State  themselves  were  killed  in  cold  blood  whenever 
the  people  ceased  to  understand  them.  To  be  a  Senator 
under  Augustus  was  as  dangerous  as  being  a  Congress- 
man of  the  United  States  during  the  days  of  Oakes  Ames. 
As  a  mere  pastime,  Augustus  one  day  sacrificed  three 
hundred  Senators.  Escape  from  Rome  was  impossible, 
when  the  death  of  a  statesman  had  been  decreed.  Had 
the  railroad  system  and  the  fast  steamboats  of  this  age 
existed,  things  might  have  been  different.  Petronius  of 
to-day,  if  ordered  to  open  his  veins,  would  probably  take 
the  first  train  for  Paris,— that  chosen  place  of  refugfe 
for  the  expatriated. 


CASTLE  OF  ST.  ANGELO,  THE  TOMB  OF  TRAJAN:  ONE  OF 
THE  GLORIES  OF  THE  ANCIENT  CITY,  THAT  HAS  BEEN 
PRESERVED   IN   ITS  ORIGINAL  STATE 


250  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

The  Romans  builded  high  and  builded  well.  The 
few  monuments  that  have  "endured  the  flight  of  time 
and  wasting  storms"  and  Christian  vandalism  are  worthy 
of  sublimest  admiration.  They  atone  in  some  measure 
for  the  despicable  characters  of  the  Roman  emperors, 
and,  in  the  presence  of  the  Arch  of  Titus  and  the  Pan- 
theon, we  cannot  forget  the  picture  of  Caligula  whisper- 
ing in  the  ear  of  Jupiter  Capitolinus  or  recounting  in  his 
simpering  idiocy  the  tale  of  his  liaison  with  the  moon. 

The  most  luxurious  places  of  ancient  Rome  were  the 
baths,  if  we  may  judge  from  the  massive  ruins  of  Titus 
and  Caracalla,  which  give  the  most  correct  idea  of  the 
stupendous  character  of  the  architecture  of  the  time. 

Rome  had  its  Forum :  for  exactly  the  same  reason  as 
Pompeii.  Love  of  country  was  the  chief  part  of  the 
pagan  religion  and  oratory,  by  wViich  patriotism  was  ex- 
ploited, and  was  so  essential  an  art  that  even  Augustus 
felt  justified  in  an  apology  for  a  prepared  address.  The 
Romans  had  no  home-life.  Young  men  destined  for  pub- 
lic careers  spent  their  time  in  the  Forum  listening  to  the 
harangues  of  orators.  From  earliest  hours,  the  boys  were 
taught  to  dispute  among  one  another.  Any  time  or 
place  was  fitting  for  a  speech. 

In  the  social  life  of  ancient  Rome,  woman  had  no 
place,  her  condition  being  much  the  same  as  that  in  which 
we  found  her  at  Tangier  or  Cairo.  Slavery  was  the 
great  blot  on  Rome,  beside  which  all  the  maxims  of  Mar- 
cus Aurelius  and  Cato  go  for  nothing. — because  they  saw 
no  harm  in  it.  The  lives  of  the  common  people  were  in 
constant  danger,  and.   as   we  have   said,  the  same   was 


ALL  THAT  IS  LEFT  OF  THE  ROMAN  FORUM  ;  ONCE  SUR- 
ROUNDED BY  THE  CAPITOL  AND  OTHER  PUBLIC  BUILD- 
INGS OF  THE   REPUBLIC  AND  THE   EMPIRE 


252  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

true  of  the  most  disting-iiished  participants  in  public 
life.  ^ 

Modern  Rome  is  a  modern  city  in  spots.  Unlike  Cairo, 
where  the  line  between  the  old  and  the  new  is  drawn  as 
with  a  scimiter,  the  Eternal  City  has  been  rebuilt  at 
random.  Hundreds  of  acres  of  devastated  antiquity  still 
await  the  rejuvenating"  hand  of  an  Italian  Haussmann. 
When  we  remember  that  New  Italy  is  little  more  than 
thirty  years  of  age,  and  that  since  that  time  Rome  has 
been  made  the  modern  cit}'  she  is,  we  must  admit  that 
much  has  been  accomplished.  The  State  is  indebted  to 
the  Church  for  the  protection  of  the  priceless  works  of 
art  that  give  Rome  its  chief  attraction,  but  greatness 
never  endured  in  a  nation  or  a  city  dominated  by  reUgi- 
ous  fanaticism.  Architecturally,  Rome  has  not  advanced 
since  the  days  of  Michael  Angelo.  Its  new  public  build- 
ings, of  recent  construction,  cannot  compare  wdth  those 
in  other  cities  of  Europe.  Italy  is  poor,  and  her  people 
are  overtaxed ;  outside  Milan  and  Genoa,  private  capital 
does  not  seek  investment  in  splendid  structures.  Rome 
possesses  several  fine  avenues  belonging  to  the  new  era, 
but  her  shops  are  not  on  a  par  with  other  cities  of  the 
kingdom. 

We  passed  a  busy  and  interesting  period  in  the  Ital- 
ian capital.  Mr.  Blake  was  perhaps  the  most  enthusias- 
tic member  of  the  party,  having  been  a  classical  student 
in  college,  but  Doris  was  no  less  familiar  than  he  with 
the  Golden  Age  of  Rome.  The  city  was  not  new  to  Mrs. 
Went  worth  or  me,  so  the  young  people  did  much  sight- 
seeing together. 

Mrs.  Wentworth  and  I  made  a  visit  to  Tivoli.     We 


GRECIAN  TEMPLE  ON  THE  LAKE  IN  THE  GARDENS 
OF  THE  VILLA  BORGHESE :  IN  THIS  PARK  A  GREA^" 
SCENE  IN  "THE  MARBLE  FAUN"  OCCURS 


2  54  The  Destiny  of   Doris 

went  on  a  morning-train  from  the  Porta  San  Lorenzo, 
and  visited  Adrian's  Villa  and  the  supposed  country  seats 
of  Maecenas  and  his  protege  Horace.  On  the  site 
of  Maecenas'  Villa  stood  an  electric-light  plant,  and  the 
Villa  of  Horace  was  a  shabby  place,  in  a  site  that  the  poet 
would  never  have  endured  for  an  hour. 

While  we  were  seated  under  the  trees  of  the  Villa 
d'Este,  I  ventured  to  take  Mrs.  VVentworth's  hand  and 
to  renew  the  assurances  of  my  devotion.  She  listened 
with  patience,  but  said : 

"You  know  my  situation  in  life  to  the  utmost  detail, 
Mr.  North.  I  have  kept  nothing  from  you,  and  you  also 
understand  that  for  the  present  I  have  entirely  subordi- 
nated my  happiness  in  this  world  to  that  of  my  child — " 

"But  her  future  is  assured,"  I  hastened  to  interpose. 
"Mr.  Blake  i«  worthy  of  her  in  every  respect;  he  is  a  man 
of  fortune  and  good  sense." 

"When  they  are  married,  as  I  hope,  possibly  we  may 
renew  this  subject,  but  for  the  present  I  again  beg  that 
it  be  dropped,"  and,  to  give' an  abrupt  turn  to  the  conver- 
sation, she  drew  from  her  pocket  a  translation  of  Hor- 
ace's Ode  to  M;ecenas,  made  by  Doris  in  what  she  de- 
scribed as  "the  Boston  dialect  of  the  American  language." 
I  took  it  from  her  hand,  and,  after  reading,  made  this 
brief  extract  to  indicate  the  new  rendering : 

Ad  MaecknatlvM. 

Scion  from  royal  lineage  sprung 

My  guide,  my  friend  when  I  was  young : 


ROMAN  YOUTH,  DESCENDED  FROM  PATRICIAN  ANCESTRY. 
WHO  PAYS  A  DAILY  VISIT  TO  THE  MONUMENT  OF  RIENZl, 
LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.   ON  THE   PINCIAN   HILL 


256  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

The  war  of  creeds,  affairs  of  State, 
Better  man  than  I  must  wait : 
As  for  me,  though  I  be  poor 
I  am  going  in  for  Literatoor, 

"This  is  what  Doris  declares  Horace  meant  to  say  in 
his  first, Ode,"  remarked  Mrs.  Wentworth. 

"We  have  a  lot  of  people  in  the  United  States  who  are 
hugging  themselves  with  the  idea  that  they  are  descended 
from  royal  ancestry,"  I  suggested.  "They  'go  in  for 
lit'rature'  to  the  extent  of  supporting  a  magazine  and 
publishing  collections  of  pedigrees  more  complicated  than 
those  to  be  found  in  Lodge  or  Burke." 

"Yes,  I  have  met  some  of  those  Americans  who  hanker 
after  remote  royal  progenitors,  but  they  always  impress 
me  as  very  ignorant  people.  How  anybody  with  an  un- 
tainted family  history  could  claim  to  be  descended  from 
William  the  Conqueror,  I  fail  to  understand.  There  was 
a  skeleton  in  his  family  before  he  was  born,  and  a  bar- 
sinister  on  his  escutcheon  afterward !" 

After  a  visit  to  the  waterfalls  in  the  Temple  of  the 
Sibyl,  we  drove  four  miles  to  the  \'illa  of  Hadrian,  near 
Osteria.  where  we  passed  a  pleasant  hour  and  then  took 
the  tram  back  to  town. 

Of  Rome's  many  churches,  the  Pantheon  is  by  far  the 
most  interesting.  It  was  an  ancient  Roman  temple,  ded- 
icated to  any  and  all  gods,  but  its  architecture  was  so 
sublime  that  Michael  Angelo  literally  placed  a  copy  of  it 
under  the  dome  of  St.  Peters.  Naples  and  Genoa  have 
replicas  of  it,  and  Paris  has  built  upon  its  lines  a  struc- 
ture as  beautiful  as  the  original. 


THE  BEAUTIFUL  FOUNTAIN  OF  TREVI,  NEAR  PIAZZA  POLI,  THE 
WATERS  OF  WHICH  WERE  MUSIC  IN  THE  EARS  OF  MRS. 
WENTWORTH   AND   HER   DAUGHTER,    EVERY    NIGHT 


258  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

So  grand  in  its  proportions  is  St.  Peter's,  that  many 
visits  are  necessary  for  its  appreciation.  In  lengthening 
the  edifice,  Michael  Angelo  destroyed  the  view  of  its 
graceful  dome  from  the  piazza  in  front  of  the  cathedral. 
The  church  is  best  appreciated  exteriorily  at  a  distance, 
where  it  can  be  seen  in  its  entirety.  The  Sistine  Chapel, 
with  its  marvelous  ceiling,  is  reached  by  a  long  stairway, 
the  steps  of  which  are  easy  as  the  flight  of  time.  And 
the  Vatican  Galleries ! — what  words  of  worthy  comment 
can  be  written  at  this  late  day  in  praise  of  the  Apollo, 
the  Laocoon,  the  Dying  Gaul,  and  the  paintings  by  Ra- 
phael, Guido,  and  Michael  Angelo? 

Holy  Week  brought  thousands  of  non-Catholics  to 
Rome.  Vast  crowds  attended  church  daily,  not  only  at 
the  basilicas  of  St.  Peter,  St.  John  di  Laterano  and  Santa 
Maria  Maggiore,  but  also  at  the  lesser  churches  of  the 
Jesuits  and  the  Augustinians.  We  heard  the  Tenebrae 
sung  at  St.  John  di  Laterano.  Under  the  lofty  dome  of 
vSt.  Peter's,  mass  was  simultaneously  celebrated  daily  in 
half  a  dozen  chapels.  ^lultitudes  of  people  walked 
through  the  cathedral  meanwhile,  and  conversed  on  all 
subjects ;  but  the  edifice  is  so  huge  that  no  interruption 
of  services  occurred.  Religion  leveled  all  ranks ;  princes 
and  paupers,  soldiers  and  civilians,  clergy  and  laity 
jostled  each  other. 

The  celebration  of  Pontifical  High  Mass  on  Easter 
morning  was  witnessed  by  Mrs.  Wentworth  and  her 
daughter,  from  seats  secured  through  the  aid  of  a  long- 
while  resident  in  Rome.  The  celebrant  was  the  Cardinal- 
Archbishop  of  the  Diocese.  The  congregation  stood  be- 
fore the  main  altar,  in  front  of  the  tomb  of  St.  Peter. 


THE  COLISSEUM  AND  THE  ARCH  OF  TITUS: 
THE  LATTER  IS  THE  MOST  PERFECT  AN- 
CIENT  MONUMENT  IN    ROME 


26o  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

The  mass  was  introduced  by  a  flute-obligato  solo  from 
Webe'r's  "Romanza,"  low  and  plaintive  as  a  sorrowing 
soul.  As  the  organ  took  up  the  theme  and  the  air  of 
the  church  became  alive  with  harmony  and  sympathy,  the 
celebrant  and  his  attendant  ascended  the  altar.  Remov- 
ing his  miter  the  Cardinal  made  a  profound  inclina- 
tion, and  signed  himself  with  the  Cross.  The  choir 
broke  forth  into  the  Kyrie  Elision,  which  on  that  occa- 
sion was  Beethoven's  Mass  in  C ;  the  succeeding  Gloria 
was  also  sung  to  Beethoven's  music. 

Facing  the  vast  audience,  the  celebrant  intoned  the 
words,  "Gloria  In  Excelsis  Deo"  and  the  choir  filled  the 
cathedral  with  a  shout  of  praise.  The  Collect  was  then 
read ;  next  the  Epistle,  by  one  of  the  deacons.  The 
Gradual  was  chanted  by  a  special  choir  of  priests,  in 
Gregorian  manner ;  after  which  Adam's  "Noel"  was  sung. 
The  air,  now  heavy  with  perfume  from  a  swinging 
censer,  pulsated  with  the  rythm  of  heavenly  music.  The 
Gospel  was  read  by  one  of  the  deacons,  very  briefly; 
then  the  Credo, — the  Cardinal  advancing  as  he  chanted, 
• — "Credo  in  Unum  Deum." 

For  the  Absolution,  attendant  deacons  brought  a  golden 
ewer  and  a  towel  of  lace.  Descending  from  the  altar, 
the  officiating  Cardinal  washed  his  hands ;  then,  reas- 
cending,  he  began  to  chant  in  a  clear  and  penetrating 
voice,  "Promnia  Saecula  Saeculorum."  All  the  bishops, 
priests,  and  acolytes  responded.  After  the  Canon  was 
read,  the  Consecration  followed,  while  the  choir  sang 
the  "Agnes  Dei." 

Three  strokes  of  a  bell,  far  away,  told  that  the  service 
was  at  an  end. 


VILLA    PALLAVICINI,    AT   PEGLI,    ON    THE   WESTERN    RIVIERA,    NEAR   GENOA 


A  City  of  Palaces 


Chapter  Eighteen 


WE  shall  make  Genoa  our  headquarters,  from 
which   we   can   visit   the  cities   of  the  Riv- 
iera and  Northern  Italy,"  said  Mrs.  Went- 
wortii,    as    our    steamer    left    the    Bay    of 
Xaples  for  the  brief  but  delightful  voyage  that  would 
end  next  day  at  the  Ligurian  seaport.     "Milan,  Lakes 
Como   and    Maggiori,    Verona,    Venice,    Bologna,    Flor- 
ence, Pisa,  Mentone,  and  Monte  Carlo  are  in  easy  reach." 
"Isn't  this  better  than  going  up  by  rail?"  asked  Doris. 
"Much  pleasanter,"  rei)lied  her  mother.    "We  shall  ar- 
range a  circular  tour  from  Genoa." 

"We  haven't  had  a  dull  moment,"  was  my  comment. 
"I  shall  always  be  grateful  that  you  suggested  my  going 
to  Egypt,  and  in  return  T  now  invite  you  to  be  my  guests 
for  a  trip  to  Monte  Carlo.     Will  you  all  accept  ?" 

"I  don't  tliink  that  question  need  ])e  put  to  a  vote,"  an- 
swered Mrs.  Wentworth.  "We  shall  take  you  at  your 
word.     Do  I  speak  for  you,  Mr.  Blake?" 

261 


252  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

"Yes,  indeed,"  was  his  prompt  reply.  "I  never  have 
been  at  Monte  Carlo,  though  I  have  seen  'the  wheel  go 
round'  a  few  times  at  Long  Branch  and  Saratoga." 

"We  are  not  going  there  to  gamble,  but  to  study  human 
nature,"  seemed  the  best  way  to  dispose  of  his  reference 
to  the  notorious  occupation  of  most  of  the  visitors  to  the 
Principality  of  Monaco.  "Years  have  passed  since  I've 
been  there,  but,  I  assure  you,  the  Casino  and  its  grounds 
occupy  the  prettiest  site  on  the  ^lediterranean." 

We  enjoyed  dinner  on  board  ship  after  the  long  stay 
ashore.  The  night  was  quiet  as  a  trip  to  Fall  River. 
Blake  and  I  occupied  a  stateroom  together,  had  our 
coffee  early,  and  were  on  deck  to  see  the  Island  of  Monte 
Cristo.  Its  desolate  cliffs  were  interspersed  with  a  few 
spots  of  green,  but  it  was  exactly  such  a  place  as  the  won- 
derful Dumas  would  have  chosen  for  the  treasure-cave 
of  his  hero  Edmund  Dantes. 

"Before  the  day  is  over,  we  shall  cease  to  draw  upon 
the  realm  of  fiction,"  said  I.  "The  romance  of  actual  life 
will  have  far  overshadowed  the  wildest  imagination." 

"You  refer  to  the  Island  of  Elba,  I  suppose?"  rephed 
Blake. 

"Yes,  we  shall  run  close  to  Elba,  and  shall  see  the  site 
of  the  toy  'palace'  in  which  the  puppet  court  of  the  de- 
throned monarch  was  held." 

Three  hours  later  we  stood  at  the  port-rail,  studying 
the  petty  dominion  that  the  Powers  had  mockingly  con- 
ferred upon  Napoleon  after  his  abdication.  The  sight 
was  disposed  to  render  us  very  thoughtful. 

"How  easy  to  understand  the  Emperor's   return   to 


A  City  of  Palaces 


263 


France  and  'The  Hundred  Days,'  after  surv^eying  that 
wretched,   rocky   isle !"   exclaimed   Mrs.   Wentworth. 

"Look !"  cried  Doris,  pointing  to  the  mainland,  then 
in  plain  view.  "There  is  Italy !  Napoleon  had  named 
its  kings !  Resignation  to  such  a  fate  as  Elba  was  not 
to  be  expected  of  any  man !" 


Picturesque  Castle  on  an  Islet  of  Ischia,  Now  Used  as  a  Prison 


"I  wonder  if  the  Great  Commander  was  not  put  there 
for  humiliation  rather  than  punishment  ?"  suggested  Mrs. 
Wentworth.  "It  would  have  been  worthy  the  brain  of 
a  Metternich  or  a  Talleyrand  to  have  subjected  Napoleon 
to  the  same  test  as  the  Maid  of  Orleans.  You  remember 
how  her  armor  was  placed  within  reach,  and  how  the 
technical  violation  of  her  oath  was  made  the  pretext  for 


264  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

the  stake  and  fagot?  Elba  was  a  forethought  of  St. 
Helena!" 

"There  stands  the  marble  monument  we  expected  to 
find,"  said  Blake.  "The  building  wherein  Napoleon 
lived  has  disappeared." 

"Corsica,  with  its  towering  mountains,  looms  to  the 
westward,"  said  I.  "In  an  eye-stroke,  we  have  before 
us  the  Story  of  Napoleon,  from  birth  to  banishment. 
There's  nothing  in  the  whole  range  of  fiction  that  paral- 
lels his  career." 

The  Gulf  of  Genoa,  on  a  bright  afternoon,  creates  a 
mental  picture  that  abides  forever.  The  first  sight  of 
the  City  of  Palaces  is  more  impressive  than  that  of 
Naples  or  Gibraltar. 

"This  is  a  favorite  place  of  mine,"  said  Mrs.  Went- 
worth,  "and  I  suggest  a  famous  old  hotel  that  was  once 
a  convent.  Its  rooms  are  of  mammoth  proportions  and 
its  site  is  one  of  the  best  in  Genoa.  We  shall  be  very 
comfortable,  and  the  proprietor  will  take  care  of  our 
heavy  baggage  while  we  are  making  the  trips  we  pro- 
pose." 

Our  first  dinner  was  taken  at  a  restaurant  on  the 
Heights  of  Castellaccio,  reached  by  a  funicolari  from  the 
center  of  the  city. 

"From  no  other  view-point  can  so  clear  a  conception 
of  the  city  and  harbor  be  obtained,"  said  Mrs.  Went- 
worth,  as  she  led  us  out  on  the  broad  veranda  of  the 
eyrie  cafe. 

At  our  feet  lay  the  busiest  seaport  of  Italy.  Far  off 
to  the  right,  amid  a  cluster  of  cypresses  on  the  edge  of 
a  precipitous  bluff,  was  the  grave  of  James  Smithson, 


GENOA,  FROM  THE  RHIGI,  WHERE  THE  MER- 
RY TRAVELXERS  DINED  AMONG  THE  BIRDS 
AND  CLOUDS,   AND  GAZED  SEAWARD 


266  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

endeared  to  every  American  by  the  endowment  of  the 
Institute  at  Washington  bearing  his  name.  Seaward, 
was  the  breakwater  that  has  made  Genoa  one  of  the  saf- 
est harbors  in  the  world, — a  gift  of  her  citizen,  the 
Duchess  of  Galhera,  costing  twenty  million  francs.  To 
the  east  were  the  terraces  of  San  Francesco  d'Albaro. 
Our  table  was  so  placed  that  we  could  study  the  beauti- 
ful city  of  stately  white  houses,  interspersed  with  parks, 
fountains,  and  broad  avenues. 

"I  say,  Vernon,"  began  Doris,  turning  to  Blake,  "you 
might  charter  a  trolley  car  while  you  are  here.  I  fear 
I  shall  want  to  spend  most  of  my  time  on  the  Via  Cir- 
comvallazione,  which  follows  the  crest  of  the  hills." 

This  produced  a  general  smile. 

"I've  already  engaged  an  automobile,  warranted  to 
climb  the  side  of  a  house,"  was  Blake's  quick  reply. 
"But,  of  course,  you  can  have  the  car  if  you  prefer  it." 

"Telemachus  might  have  said  of  Genoa,  as  he  did  of 
Ithaca:  'It  isn't  much  of  a  place  for  horses,'  "  I  chimed 
in,  knowing  Blake's  fondness  for  the  classics. 

"He  didn't  know  what  he  was  talking  about,"  retorted 
Blake.  "I  was  at  Ithaca  myself  four  years,  and  kept  a 
horse  during  my  sophomore  and  junior  years." 

"Oh !  you  mean  a  'college-pony !'  "  exclaimed  Doris. 
"Tell  us  all  about  it." 

"It's  a  sad  story,"  was  the  reply,  with  affected  gravity. 
"He  was  a  noble  animal :  I  imported  him  myself.  We 
sophomores  had  been  cantering  easily  across  the  green 
meadows  of  Xenophon's  'Memorabilia,'  when  the  Master 
of  the  Hunt,  who  pretended  to  be  Professor  of  Greek, 
thought  our  pace  too  gentle,  and  suddenly  swerved  into 


WKkl^^M 

H|^^n|9|Mk  *•  '3''  ■<•  '^  ^pv^  Ur 

Bf '^ '    IT'  ^P^-r^lHI-'^' 

ki. 

mB*  *  Y"^^^^^riB^^V^^. 

■^Ha  1 

-■^HiW 

Wm»^' 

EZ" 

Mplfe^. 

^KTH^^ 

t^Jift  sa 

<3H^^^^^n| 

■o 

1  jHn^^^^^^^^Fvi 

Us 

-■l,.^B' 

£m 

"^^k'* 

■pV^H^ 

-i^Ml  3'** 

j^^pB^^^^Kt.  ^  A 

^' 

jflj^Hr ,  ,^^X   M|^ 

'WlS:-     " 

''%SL>P'^f? 

^ 

CASTLE  ON  THE  HEIGHTS  BEHIND  GENOA: 
AN  ELECTRICAL  ROAD  FOLLOWS  THE 
CREST  OF  THESE  HILLS 


268  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

another  field  called  'yEschines  on  the  Crown.'  I 
couldn't  go  that  any  better  than  the  rest  of  my  class- 
mates. New  York  was  searched  in  vain,  but  the  particu- 
lar kind  of  horse  needed  for  the  rocky  syntax  couldn't  be 
bought.  I  cabled  to  London,  and  in  ten  days  my  pet, 
my  prince  of  horse-flesh,  arrived !  For  six  months  I 
rode  him  every  morning  across  the  barbed-wire  fences 
of  the  ablative-absolute  and  the  sloughs  of  irregular 
verbs.  Though  he  never  bucked,  we  sometimes  fell  to- 
gether, but  he'd  always  wait  for  me  to  regain  my  pres- 
ence of  mind." 

"How  very  pathetic!"'  commented  Doris.  "What  be- 
came of  him?'' 

"I  refused  to  sell  him,  but  gave  him  to  a  loving  master 
in  the  class  below  me.  I  preferred  that  he  have  a  trusty 
keeper.  My  old  college-pony  is  still  alive, — my  noble 
^schines !" 

"It  was  'a  horse'  on  the  Greek  professor,  sure  enough," 
said  I. 

The  dinner  was  delightful  in  every  detail,  and  we  de- 
scended from  the  dizzy  height,  as  we  might  have  taken 
a  toboggan  slide  in  Kansas  City. 

"The  guide  books  treat  Genoa  very  unfairly,"  said 
Blake,  when  we  assembled  for  dejeuner  next  day.  "A 
great  deal  can  be  said  about  it.  Like  Florence,  it  was  a 
stronghold  before  Romulus  and  Remus  ascended  the 
Tiber.  It  contains  one  of  the  quaintest  little  churches 
of  Italy,  built  by  the  Crusaders." 

"Doris  and  I  went  to  the  Cathedral  of  San  Lorenzo 
this  morning,"  said  Mrs.  Wentworth.  "It  is  a  long, 
narrow  edifice,  with  a  fine  fagade  of  twisted  columns,  and. 


WEALTHY  GENOESE  TAKE  A  CHEERFUL  VIEW  OF  DEATH 
AT  THEIR  CAMPO  SANTO.  KEY  IN  HAND  THIS  SCULP- 
TURED  FIGURE  IS   ENTERING   HER  OWN  TOMB 


270  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

unlike  most  Gothic  churches,  is  without  a  nave  to  give  it 
the  form  of  a  cross.  Its  alternating-  layers  of  black  and 
white  marble  recall  the  Duomo  in  Florence." 

We  passed  the  afternoon  at  the  Campo  Santo,  unques- 
tionably the  most  interesting  cemetery  in  the  world. 
Nearly  every  monument  is  a  work  of  art,  and  vast  sums 
of  money  have  been  expended  on  the  enormous  structure 
that  contains  the  vaults.  Only  the  poor  are  buried  in 
the  ground.  The  tomb  of  ]\Iazzini,  on  an  eminence,  is 
simple  .though  massive  in  proportions. 

"I  was  living  in  Genoa  when  this  woman  died,"  began 
Mrs.  Wentworth,  as  she  stopped  before  the  statue  of  a 
peasant  woman  surmounting  a  grave  in  one  of  the  most 
costly  parts  of  the  cemetery.  "The  event  occasioned 
much  talk.  A  fruit-seller,  she  had  risen  from  very  humble 
birth  to  considerable  wealth.  She  owned  houses  and  lands, 
but  continued  her  avocation.  One  day  she  was  stricken 
with  what  was  believed  to  be  fatal  illness.  Her  relatives 
assembled  at  her  bedside,  and,  supposing  her  already  dead, 
quarreled  over  the  division  of  her  property.  She  had 
heard  everything ;  and,  regaining  her  faculties,  she  drove 
them  from  the  house.  Her  first  act,  after  leaving 
her  bed,  was  to  come  here  and  select  this  site  for  a  tomb. 
She  then  engaged  one  of  the  best  sculptors  in  Liguria, 
and  gave  him  sittings  for  this  statue,  especially  enjoin- 
ing him  to  preserve  her  peasant-garb.  She  wished  to 
humble  the  vanity  of  her  relatives  and  to  spend  every  lira 
she  possessed !  The  monument  was  set  up  before  her 
death,  and  she  often  came  to  admire  it.  The  vault  cost 
her  forty  thousand  lira,  and  the  statue  as  much  more!" 


GENOA,  FROM  THE  CUSTOM  HOUSE,  SHOWING 
THE  ESPLANADE  AND  LEVEE  :  HEIGHT  OF 
HILLS    BEHIND   AVERAGES    1,200    FEET 


272  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

"She  certainly  carried  her  revenge  to  the  verge  of 
the  grave,"  added  Doris. 

"Although  there  are  several  monuments  here  embody- 
ing artistic  thoughts,  there  is  nothing  so  horribly  realistic 
as  that  famous  monument  in  St.  Paul's,  London,  where 
the  figure  of  death  is  dragging  the  body  of  the  deceased 
into  a  tomb,"  said  Mrs.  W'entworth. 

"Let's  go  and  dine  at  the  Righi  again  !  Didn't  we 
have  enough  of  tombs  and  ghastly  sepulchres  in  the 
Nile  Valley?"  persisted  Blake. 

In  half  an  hour  we  were  seated  at  the  lofty  perch 
overlooking,  what  Blake,  in  his  admiration,  denominated, 
"The  Hunki-Doria  City." 

The  generosity  of  her  citizens  has  provided  Genoa 
with  two  highly  interesting  art-collections,  found  in  the 
Palaces  Rosso  and  Bianco.  In  the  former,  are  exquisite 
Van  Dycks,  especially  his  portrait  of  the  founders  of 
the  Brignoli-Sale  family,  whose  descendants  gave  these 
two  buildings  and  their  contents.  In  the  Rosso  is  the 
handsomest  mirror  in  Italy.  Several  private  galleries 
are  well  worth  seeing,  notably  those  in  the  Doria,  Du- 
razzo-Pallavicini  and  Balbi-Senarega  Palaces.  Many 
fine  examples  of  Rubens,  \an  Dyck,  Guido,  Titian,  and 
Paulo  Veronese  are  on  those  walls.  Houses  in  which 
Byron  lived  and  Daniel  O'Connell  died  are  marked  wdth 
tablets. 

Blake  and  I  ran  down  to  Pisa  one  morning  to  see  the 
leaning  tower.  We  snapped  this  view  from  the  train, 
showing  the  Cathedral,  baptistry,  and  leaning  bell-tower. 

Excursions  were  made  to  Pegli  on  the  west  shore,  and 
Nervi  on  the  east.     The  splendid  gardens  of  the  Mar- 


A  City  of  Palaces 


273 


quis  di  Pallavicini,  at  the  former  suburb,  contain  spec- 
imens of  every  tree  that  grows  in  Europe,  and  an  artifi- 
cial grotto,  embellished  with  stalactites  and  stalagmites 
brought  from  caves  of  Spain  and  Austria.  Xervi  is  a 
replica  of  Capri  or  Amalfi.  done  in  the  modern  villa- 
style.  The  palm  tree  {Fcrncx  syhcstrix)  thrives  at  Pegli, 


Cathedral,  Baptistry,  and  Leaning-tower  at  Pisa:  the  Tower 
IS  OF  Carrara  Marble,— a  Jewel  of  Architecture 


where  its  branches  take  the  color  of  the  waves  of  the  sea. 
I  w-as  assured  by  the  owner  of  a  beautiful  garden  filled 
with  them,  that  the  palm  needed  no  cultivation  there, 
and  would  endure  snow  after  the  fifth  year.  It  will  live 
where  the  cold  docs  not  exceed  10^'  Centigrade. 
Why  are  there  no  palms  at  Old  Point  Comfort? 


GENERAL  VIEW   OF   THE    PRINCE   OF    MONACO  S   DOMAIN 


Chapter  Nineteen 


The  World  of  Chance 


THE  journey  into  the  sunshine  at  ]\Ionte  Carlo 
is  almost  subterranean.  There  are  thirty 
tunnels  between  Genoa  and  Ventimiglia ! 
Hungry  for  daylight,  we  stopped  over  a 
train  at  this  frontier  town,  and  enjoyed  the  famous  view 
of  the  Mediterranean  from  its  terrace  at  the  citadel ;  then 
we  proceeded  to  Mentone,  and  drove  about  that  bower  of 
roses  for  a  couple  of  hours.  The  beautiful  town  nestles 
in  a  cove,  that  protects  it  from  the  blasts  of  winter,  but 
renders  it  very  warm  in  summer. 

Monte  Carlo  is  only  ten  minutes'  ride  from  Alentone, 
and  before  eight  o'clock  we  sat  down  to  dinner  in  the 
most  frivolous  and  picturesque  of  all  cities  of  Europe. 
Our  hotel  was  on  the  esplanade,  near  the  Casino,  where 
we  could  study  the  rapid  life  that  moved  about  us.  The 
Principality  owes  everything  it  possesses  to  the  gambling 
corporation,  which  maintains  the  Casino  and  gardens. 
Every  extravagance  and  luxury  that  money  can  provide, 

274 


The  World  of  Chance  275 

is  in  evidence.  Under  the  Casino-roof  is  an  opera 
house,  dainty  as  a  jewel-case,  and  perfect  in  its  acoustic 
properties.  The  foyer  to  the  play-rooms  is  rendered  im- 
posing by  a  fine  row  of  columns.  From  it  a  door  admits 
the  public  to  the  salons. 

Crowds  of  forty  or  fifty  persons  surround  each  of  the 
tables.  Many  visitors  are  merely  spectators:  their  faces 
evince  only  curiosity.  Some  of  the  players  are  indiffer- 
ent to  loss  or  gain ;  but  worse  specimens  of  greedy  hu- 
manity do  not  exist.  Handsomely  gowned  women  from 
all  parts  of  Europe  are  elbowing  one  another  for  seats. 
The  spectacle  is  not  attractive.  Even  less  pleasant  is  it 
to  comprehend  that  respectable  women  come  to  study  and 
imitate  their  sisters  of  another  world. 

We  joined  the  throng  about  one  of  the  fascinating 
wheels,  and  were  present  when  a  well-known  New  York 
speculator,  known  by  the  frigid  title  of  "The  Ice  King," 
made  an  attack  upon  the  roulette  table,  a  fact  widely 
chronicled  by  the  French  and  American  press.  Being 
unacquainted  with  the  language,  he  requested  that  a 
croupier  be  assigned  to  him  who  spoke  English.  This 
was  easy,  as  several  British  and  American  employees  are 
attached  to  the  establishment.  He  secured  a  seat  from 
a  woman  for  a  few  Napoleons,  and,  with  "Dr.  Jack 
Martingale,  of  Saratoga,"  at  his  side,  he  changed  a  bundle 
of  bank-notes  into  gold.  He  was  methodical  as  an  ac- 
countant;  cold  as  the  staple  that  he  monopolized  in  his 
own  land. 

"What's  the  last  number  out  ?"  he  asked. 

"Fifteen,"  replied  Martingale. 

"Has  anybody  kept  a  tab?"  was  the  next  inquiry. 


276  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

A  pale-visaged  man  across  the  table  evidently  under- 
stood his  words ;  for  he  held  up  a  sheet  of  paper  contain- 
ing figures. 

"Ask  him  what  he  wants  for  it,"  said  the  Ice  King  to 
Martingale. 

"One  louis,"  the  stranger  answered  for  himself,  in 
English. 

Tossing  a  gold  piece  across  the  board,  the  American 
took  up  the  sheet.  Here  is  a  copy  of  the  "tab,"  showing 
the  action  of  the  machine,  reading  downward  on  each 
column : 


18 

20 

8 

■31 

3 

30 

2 

33 

23 

7 

33 

13 

31 

5 

24 

30 

34 

7 

20 

35 

10 

29 

II 

23 

26 

I 

II 

30 

19 

15 

28 

17 

31 

28 

19 

27 

15 

6 

7 

4 

36 

26 

36 

19 

32 

II 

36 

30 

0 

6 

34 

34 

0 

7 

22 

I 

17 

30 

36 

24 

2 

22 

7 

17 

I 

28 

12 

2 

17 

5 

27 

7 

17 

36 

34 

17 

7 

36 

23 

6 

36 

30 

31 

6 

34 

15 

27 

7 

24 

3 

18 

9 

14 

6 

22> 

19 

25 

22 

36 

4 

19 

I 

4 

21 

22 

32 

9 

4 

16 

36 

36 

26 

32 

12 

19 

13 

10 

Studying  the  tabulated  score,  the  New  Yorker  thus  self- 
commented  : — "One  hundred  and  seventeen  rolls, — scarce- 
ly enough  to  give  me  a  line  on  the  wheel ;  but  sixes  and 
sevens  are  'running';  17,  31,  7,  i,  and  19  have  'repeated.' 
Seven  has  won  thrice  in  siiccession, — that's  enough  for 


THE  THEATRE  AND  CASINO  AT  MONTE  CARLO. 
SURROUNDED  BY  ONE  OF  THE  MOST  BEAU- 
TIFUL GARDENS  IN   EUROPE 


278  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

big  money.  And  it  has  appeared  eight  times,  or  once  in 
every  fourteen  plays.  That's  quite  often.  The  'neigh- 
bors' don't  appear  to  be  in  favor.  Number  One  succeeds 
36,  and  36  follows  i.  And,  by  Jupiter!  the  same  thing 
occurs  in  the  third  column.  Then  the  wheel  goes  on  a 
racket  into  another  series.  But,  notice  the  sixth  column ! 
The  ball  runs  into  the  third  dozen  six  out  of  thirteen 
times.  The  last  column  is  significant  of  nothing  except 
the  transcendent  run  of  7;  the  multiples  of  it  do  not 
appear,  nor  can  we  divide  any  of  the  other  numbers  by 
the  magic  digit.  What  has  just  rolled?  Oh!  you've 
been  keeping  the  numbers,  Martingale?  I  see — 24,  14, 
3,  22,  34,  3.—" 

"Thirty-four,  and  red,"  whispers  Martingale,  as  the 
ball  falls. 

"If  that  series  will  continue  for  five  minutes,  I'll  make 
this  wheel  tired,"  and  Martingale  is  instructed  to  place 
the  wager  thus : 

"Four  louis  each  on  22,  24,  15  and  3 ;  'star'  the  5 ;  'split' 
17  and  20  for  five  louis ;  play  34,  to  repeat  for  what  you 
like." 

The  perverse  wheel  shies  the  ball  into  an  entirely  new 
field. 

"Six,"  is  the  laconic  remark  of  the  croupier.  Before 
the  Ice  King  had  received  the  seventeen  golden  louis 
won  d  chcval  5-6,  he  examined  the  "tab"  to  see  what  6 
had  previously  done.  Four  had  followed  it  once ;  36,  14 
and  24  at  other  times. 

"Number  4  ought  to  be  good.  Thirty-six  is  in  the  34- 
35-36  row.  Now  for  it!  Play  the  4-5-6  and  34-35-36 
rows  for  a  thousand  francs  each;  a  500-franc  note  on 


INTERIOR  OF  THE  GRAND  SALON 
IN  THE  CASINO.  SHOWING  THE 
ROULETTE    TABLES 


28o  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

14  and  another  on  24.     If  the  wheel  will  run  kindly!     It 
does!     'The  house  loses  and  the  gentleman  wins' — " 

"Twenty-four!"  exclaimed  Martingale,  adding  in  a 
low  voice,  "You  win  seventeen  thousand  five  hundred 
francs." 

The  Ice  King  didn't  have  to  be  told.  He  could  have 
"paid"  as  well  as  any  croupier  at  that  table. 

"Yes ;  I  lose  2,500  francs, — 15,000  net  winning.  Now, 
Martingale,  I  want  to  get  every  louis  they  will  let  me 
wager  on  36  and  3.  The  o  is  worth  a  hundred,  as  a 
saver." 

"They'll  let  you  play  1,000  francs  flat,  2,000  a  chcval, 
3,000  on  a  row,  5,000  on  the  third  column  and  10,000 
on  the  color." 

"Not  on  the  color,  that  isn't  roulette.  A  thousand, 
flat,  on  3  and  36 ;  2,000  on  the  line  between  33-36  and  the 
same  on  35-36;  3,000  on  row  34-35-36.  Make  it  500  on 
the  zero.  Leave  my  bet  on  24.  It  may  repeat.  Thunder, 
I  can  still  play  the  last  dozen  for  a  thousand.     If — " 

"Thirty-six  !     You  win  again." 

Not  a  muscle  of  the  American's  face  changes.  He 
takes  up  a  card  and  begins  to  calculate : — "On  36,  I  win 
35,000  francs,  plus  34,000  a  chcval  and  on  the  last  dozen 
5,000,  total  74,000  francs,  nearly  $15,000." 

It  was  the  greatest  coup  of  the  season. 
■  Instead  of  stopping,  the  Ice  King  determines  that  the 
table  shall  suspend  for  the  day — an  invariable  rule  fol- 
lowed whenever  200,000  francs  are  lost  by  one  set  of 
croupiers.  He  actually  believes  he  can  do  it !  The 
American  is  fully  $10,000  ahead,  deducting  all  his  losses. 
But  he  cannot  quit.     Therein  lies  the  real  percentage  in 


MONTE  CARLO,  LOOKING  TOWARD  MENTONE.  FROM 
THE  GARDENS  OF  THE  CASINO.  THE  CORNICE  ROAD 
IS  AT  THE  BASE  OF  THE  CLIFFS 


282  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

favor  of  the  bank.  Several  of  the  other  tables  are  de- 
serted by  players  who  come  scurrying  across  the  waxed 
floor  to  watch  "the  plunger,"  and  to  get  a  bet  down  on 
!  one  of  his  lucky  squares.  The  Ice  King  is  a  changed 
i  man.  He  is  feeding  on  success.  Many  of  the  bills  be- 
fore him  are  crisp  and  bright  as  the  new  money  one  gets 
in  Washington.     He  places  them  on  the  table,  fearlessly. 

"Thirteen  in  the  black,"  said  Martingale,  from  force 
of  American  habit.  The  French  croupier  never  mentions 
the  color.  He  will  bar  the  zero  if  you  want  to  play  the 
red  and  black  only. 

"Nobody  wins !"  exclaims  a  bystander,  as  the  croupiers 
rake  and  push  the  notes  and  gold  from  all  parts  of  the 
table.     The  Ice  King  has  lost  5,000  francs. 

"Thirteen  has  only  appeared  three  times  in  a  hundred 
and  fifty  rolls, — a  slow  and  unlucky  number,"  he  mut- 
ters. Again,  with  Martingale's  assistance,  he  scatters 
his  money  about  the  table.  It  seems  impossible  that  he 
can  have  overlooked  the  winning  number.  Finally,  he 
tosses  500  francs  on  each  of  the  threes,  3,  23,  33,  having 
already  an  equal  amount  upon  13,  in  the  hope  that  it  will 
"repeat." 

"Seventeen  wins." 

Nothing  for  the  big  player.  What  a  run  of  black! 
Were  the  Ice  King  content  with-  even  money,  he  might 
be  winning,  not  losing;  but  thirty-five  to  one  is  the 
odds  he  demands.  He  is  now  wagering  5,000  francs  on 
every  turn  of  the  wheel,  and  has  lost  more  than  half  his 
winnings.  Seventeen  is  one  of  the  banner-numbers  of 
the  night.  It  has  "repeated,"  and  his  code  of  supersti- 
tion leads  the  plunger  to  believe  it  may  do  so 'again. 


DRIVEWAY,  UNDER  THE  BATTLEMENTED 
WALLS  OF  OLD  MONACO  ;  PALACE  OF  THE 
PRINCE   UPON  THE   HEIGHTS 


284  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

The  17-20  looks  like  an  admiral's  flag!  It  is  "starred" 
and  "buttoned"  and  "braced  on  the  row;"  it  is  played 
"flat"  for  1,000  francs,  and  its  "neighbors"  on  the  wheel 
are  protected. 

The  dealer  is  a  trifle  nervous  and  drops  one  ball  on  the 
floor.  Another  is  supplied.  Tr-r-r-r-r-r — the  ball  is 
rolling.  Everybody  at  the  table  awaits  the  decision  with 
breathless  anxiety.  Now,  the  ball  is  tumbling, — rat-tat- 
tat-snap-rat-tat — 

"Seventeen  in  the — white!"  Martingale  is  flurried 
for  the  first  time  in  all  his  career.  But  the  player  is 
as  cold  as  his  own  ice. 

"Umph!  Exactly  63.500  francs,"  is  his  comment.  He 
had  figured  it  out  liefore  the  ball  fell. 

A  look  of  blank  amazement  is  on  the  faces  of  the  croup- 
iers at  this  table.  They  care  nothing  about  the  money, 
but  they  are  alarmed  to  see  that  so  old  a  knight  of  the 
gaming-table  as  "Doc  Martingale  has  lost  his  nerve. 

"Seventeen  is  never  in  the  white,"  they  mutter,  and 
the  old  croupier  slips  out  of  the  Casino,  across  to  the 
Restaurant  de  Paris  to  brace  up  on  cognac. 

The  Ice  King  has  regained  his  losses  by  one  bold  dash. 
Will  he  stop  now?  Never!  It  is  so  easy  to  win,  he 
thinks  for  the  moment.  Some  louis  d'or  are  knocked  ofif 
the  table.  The  money-mad  man  doesn't  even  look  for 
them.     He  says  in  English,  after  he  has  placed  his  money, 

"Fm  fixed  ;  you  can't  beat  me !" 

''Nnuiero  trois!"  calls  a  new  croupier,  mechanically. 
The  Ice  King  doesn't  understand  the  French,  but  he 
sees  the  ball  go  into  3.  Nothing  for  him !  Every  franc 
he  had  wagered  is  lost !     The  ball  is  perverse  as  a  balky 


VIEW  OF  THE  CASINO  GARDENS,  SHOWING 
THE  CELEBRATED  DOUBLE  ROW  OF  PALMS 
AND  THE   BEAUTIFUL  FLOWERS 


286  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

mule.  He  can't  guess  its  decision.  The  voice  of  the 
dealer  has  taken  on  the  timbre  of  retribution.  It  names 
all  numbers  but  the  right  one. 

"Why  doesn't  he  stop?"'  whispers  Mrs.  Wentworth, 
almost  agonized. 

"Stop!  How  little  you  know  about  the  passion  of 
gambling,-'  I  replied.  "No;  he  must  go  on !  Tell  a  man 
in  the  Niagara  rapids  to  come  ashore,  but  never  expect 
a  roulette  player  who  has  made  a  heavy  loss  to  quit. 
He  cannot !" 

Having  exhausted  all  the  gold  and  bank-notes  in  front 
of  him,  the  American  reaches  deeply  in  his  pockets  for 
more  money.  He  kno\\s  he  is  sure  of  a  heavy  loss ;  but 
he  cannot  quit.  He  has  forgotten  the  "tab"  he  prized. 
Cool  as  he  looks,  the  man  is  in  another  existence — in 
hell,  if  found  on  earth.  The  cynicism  of  his  smile  is  that 
of  Satan  himself !  The  loss  of  money  doesn't  cause  it, 
but  chagrin  at  defeat,  at  failure. 

Cold  beads  of  perspiration  are  on  the  Ice  King's  brow. 
No  "system,"  no  "neighbors"  or  "multiples"  for  him. 
He  chases  the  wheel,  and  it  outstrips  him.  The  ball 
rolls  slowly,  but  dodges  his  numbers.  Again,  and  yet 
again,  the  table  is  cleared  of  the  debris  of  gold  coin 
and  French  bank-notes :  a  few  louis  are  won  occasionally 
on  the  line  or  on  the  row ;  but  to  place  a  wager  success- 
fully seems  impossible.  The  American  holds  up  his 
hand  for  delay.  He  makes  another  "plunge."  He 
throws  money  on  the  "lay  out"  until  he  hears  the  words, 
"Nothing  more  goes!"  Then  he  waits,  and  the  ball  falls 
— into  zero.  He  has  overlooked  the  o !  He  has  now  lost 
$20,000,  in  addition  to  all  his  winnings. 


SAN  REMO,  A  BOWER  OF  FLOWERS 
AND  ORCHIDS  ;  ONE  OF  THE  PRETTIEST 
PLACES  ON   THE   RIVIERA 


288  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

We  followed  the  dethroned  king  to  the  moonlighted 
terrace.  His  mistake  had  been  in  playing  the  numbers 
as  they  are  arranged  on  the  wheel  in  America.  The  or- 
der at  Monte  Carlo  is  wholly  different.  Had  he  wagered 
on  the  "neighbors"  as  there  found,  he  could  have  won 
instead  of  lost.     He  knew  the  American  wheel  too  well. 

At  Monte  Carlo  the  thirty-six  numbers  are  in  this  or- 
der, to  the  right  of  zero: — 32,  15,  19,  4,  21,  2,  25,  17, 
34,  6,  27,  13,  36,  II,  30,  8,  22,,  10,  5,  24,  16,  33,  I,  20,  14, 
31,  9,  22,  18,  29,  7,  28,  12,  35,  3,  26. 

"Gaze  upon  that  fairy  palace,"  said  I ;  "behold  these 
sparkling  fountains,  these  flowering  plants,  this  reckless 
extravagance  that  surrounds  us,  and  answer  me,  'How 
could  he  win  ?'  " 

Next  morning  the  subsidized  Paris  newspapers  con- 
tained pretty  tales  by  wire,  entitled : 

"The  American  Ice  King  breaks  the  Bank  at  Monte 
Carlo." 

Such  is  the  game  of  roulette,  and  such  is  the  fate  of  its 
devotees.  To  win  is  not  so  difficult ;  but  to  resist  the 
wild  impulse  to  ruin  the  establishment  is  impossible. 

Across  a  gorge  from  the  Casino  rises  a  solitary  rock 
known  as  "Old  Monaco,"  where  is  the  palace  of  the 
Prince,  guarded  by  a  squad  of  soldiers  that  constitute 
his  army.  The  Principality  is  hardly  larger  than  the 
flag  that  floats  from  the  palace-roof.  The  Cornice  road, 
half-way  up  the  mountain-side,  marks  the  landward  limit 
of  the  dominion. 

"Monte  Carlo  resembles  one  of  those  toy  towns  that 
were  my  delight  in  childhood,"  said  Mrs.  Wentworth, 
as  we  ascended  bv  a  cable  road  to  a  mountain-heieht 


OLD  MONACO,  ON  ITS  ROCKY  HEIGHT:  THE  WHITE 
PALACE  IS  IN  THE  CENTRE,  AND  THE  GAMBLING 
CASINO   IS  SEEN    FAR   THROUGH   THE   TREES 


290  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

on  the  north.  "Its  yellow  block-houses,  with  their  pink 
tile  roofs,  and  trees  that  might  be  made  of  curled  shav- 
ings stained  with  green  wax,  sustain  the  illusion." 

"Yes,  but  here  is  the  blue  Mediterranean,"  answered 
Doris.  "You  never  found  that  in  any  box  of  toys.  To 
me  it  is  the  most  beautiful  thing  here." 

"The  scenery  is  very  rugged  at  Monte  Carlo,"  mused 
Mrs.  Wentworth. 

"So  it  is, — in  the  salons  of  the  Casino,"  replied  Blake. 

As  the  moth  goes  back  to  the  flame,  so  returned  we  to 
the  gambling-rooms  next  day.  By  mutual  agreement, 
we  limited  ourselves  to  a  loss  of  one  hundred  francs. 
Mr.  Blake  had  some  luck.  He  won  several  coups  by 
playing  Miss  Wentworth's  age. 

A  well-groomed  American  bowed  to  him  across  the 
table:  "Hello,  Vernon!" 

"Hello,  Tracy!     Any  luck?" 

"None  whatever,"  was  the  reply. 

"Poor  Tailback,"  commented  Blake,  as  we  left  the 
salon.  "He's  been  up  against  a  worse  game  than  this 
for  years." 

"What  can  that  be?"  we  all  asked,  in  the  same  breath. 

"Paying  alimony,"  retorted  Blake. 


i 

i^MBI 

\t^M\^"'-muy^^ 

:-^j'^'  .^ 

MILAN  S  CATHEDRAL   IS   THE    DOMINATING   FEATURE 

Chapter  Twenty 

Home  of  the  Lombard  Kings 

WONDERFUL  Milan!"  is  the  phrase.  The 
Lombard  kings  of  to-day  are  the  masters 
of  trade  in  Italy !  Milan  is  growing  in 
population  and  wealth  at  a  rate  that  rivals 
Chicago.  Shaded  avenues  extend  for  miles  along  the 
edge  of  its  mediaeval  moat.  Its  city-wall  and  massive 
gateway  are  the  only  reminders  of  antiquity.  Although 
slightly  smaller  in  population  than  Naples  and  Rome, 
its  thrift  is  indicated  on  every  hand. 

The  focus  of  commercial  and  public  life  in  Milan  is 
the  Piazza  del  Duomo,  where  stands  the  Cathedral,  one 
of  the  wonders  of  the  world. 

"Mother  and  I  came  up  from  Genoa  underground," 
said  Doris,  when  I  rejoined  the  Wentworth  party  at 
Milan.  "The  first  twenty-five  miles  were  through  tun- 
nels one  nine  kilometers  in  length  ;  but  Milan  is  worth 
the  trouble.  Its  Cathedral  is  lace-work  in  stone.  I  felt 
the  same  kind  of  an  awe-invoked  shiver  that  I  e.xperi- 

291 


292  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

enced  at  Karnak,  but  there  the  comparison  ended.  The 
beautiful  Duomo  is  living  art ;  the  Egyptian  temples  be- 
long to  a  dead  and  buried  school." 

"Did  you  climb  to  the  top  of  the  Cathedral?"  was  my 
first  question. 

"Ask  mamma!"  was  the  reply.  "She  protested  at  ev- 
ery landing,  and,  afraid  I'd  get  lost  among  the  spires 
on  the  roof,  she  followed,  red  of  face  and  breathing 
hard,  but  vigilant.  Finally,  we  arrived  at  the  roof.  I 
confess  I  went  to  see  Napoleon's  statue  as  a  Greek  hero. 
It  is  atop  the  sixth  pinnacle  from  the  front,  midway  up 
the  west  side  of  the  roof,  not  at  the  eaves.  It  is  Napo- 
leon's face,  especially  his  nose  and  chin,  but  the  body  is 
that  of  an  athlete,  which  Napoleon  was  not.  He  was 
called  'Puss  in  Boots'  by  ladies  who  didn't  like  him. 
When  I  pointed  out  the  statue  to  my  mother,  she  gazed 
at  it  intently  for  a  few  minutes.  'Quite  modest!'  was 
her  comment.  Assuming  she  referred  to  the  statue  it- 
self, I  explained  that  the  draperies  were  held  about  the 
body  by  the  Greek  athletes  until  entering  a  contest  of 
strength  or  valor,  when  they  were  cast  aside.  'Oh!  I 
didn't  mean  that,'  she  rejoined.  'I  was  surprised  Napo- 
leon hadn't  assigned  himself  to  the  top  of  the  central 
pinnacle.'  " 

"What  most  impressed  you  about  the  Duomo?"  I  in- 
quired. 

"Religiously,  the  absence  of  the  Cross,"  was  Doris' 
prompt  rejoinder.  "Except  the  emblem  in  the  right 
hand  of  the  Christ,  atop  the  central  tower,  I  did  not 
observe  a  cross  anywhere  on  the  outside  of  the  Cathe- 
dral." 


NAPOLEONS  STATUE,  AS  A  GREEK  HERO, 
ATOP  THE  MILAN  CATHEDRAL:  A  BIT  OF 
MODEST    SELF-GLORIFICATION 


294  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

We  went  to  the  refectory  of  Santa  Maria  della  Gra- 
zie,  and  studied  "The  Last  Supper"  of  Leonardo  da 
Vinci.  The  suppressed  monastery  is  now  a  cavalry  bar- 
rack, though  the  long  room  containing  this  immortal 
work  is  preserved  in  all  its  original  gloominess.  "The 
Last  Supper"  occupies  the  end  wall  of  the  apartment 
farthest  from  the  door,  and  is  in  a  deplorable  condition. 
No  living  artist  can  restore  it.  Despite  the  ravages  of 
time,  the  emotions  that  the  master  intended  to  express 
are  still  apparent  upon  the  faces  of  the  Saviour  and  his 
Disciples.  The  idealized  portrait  of  Christ  is  sympa- 
thetic and  forgiving  to  the  highest  degree,  though  the 
artist  has  chosen  the  moment  in  which  He  exclaimed, — 
"And  yet,  one  of  you  shall  betray  me!"  Protestations 
almost  can  be  heard  issuing  from  the  lips  of  the  Apos- 
tles. John  is  the  calmest  man  at  the  table.  Judas  "doth 
'protest  too  much."  Peter,  probably  under  suspicion  be- 
cause of  previous  repudiations,  displays  excellent  tact. 
He  makes  only  one  firm  denial.  In  this  marvelous  pic- 
ture, the  development  of  Italian  art  attained  its  per- 
fection. The  exquisite  equilibrium  of  the  whole  compo- 
sition is  not  disturbed  by  the  completeness  of  the  indi- 
vidual groups.  The  spectator's  eye  focuses  itself  natur- 
ally upon  the  central  figure,  and  his  mind  absorbs  the 
thrill  of  indignant  surprise  so  clearly  agitating  the  Apos- 
tles. 

Music  is  inhaled  with  the  air  in  Lombardy. 

If  Leonardo  failed  to  make  Alilan  a  center  of  Art  dur- 
ing the  Rennaisance,  Verdi  recently  established  Music 
there  so  firmly  that  it  cannot  be  dethroned.  La  Scala 
was  the  scene  of  his  greatest  triumphs.     His  gaunt  fig- 


INTERIOR  OF  ROOM  IN  CAVALRY  BARRACKS.  REFRECTORY 
OF  SANTA  MARIA  DELLE  GRAZIA,  SHOWING  THE  POSITION 
OF  LEONARDO'S  IMMORTAL  PICTURE 


296  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

ure,  surmounted  by  its  slouch  hat,  was  known  to  every 
street  urchin  of  the  Lombard  capital.  Before  his  death, 
he  built  and  endowed  a  home  for  aged  musicians,  after 
the  plan  of  the  Forrest  Home,  near  Philadelphia.  This 
red-brick  structure  is  outside  the  city-walls,  near  the 
gate  of  Magenta.  It  surrounds  an  open  court  in  which 
are  a  fountain  and  plants.  Verdi's  body  rests  there,  but 
the  place  is  not  open  to  visitors,  who  would  be  glad  to 
lay  a  flower  upon  his  tomb. 

In  a  direct  line  across  the  city  from  the  Verdi  Home, 
is  the  white  marble  Arch  of  Peace,  begun  for  the  Foro 
Bonaparte,  in  1806,  and  completed  under  the  Austrian 
domination,  in  1838.  Its  use  to-day  seems  to  be  com- 
memorative of  the  triumph  of  the  allied  armies  of  Na- 
poleon III.  and  Victor  Emanuele  over  the  Austrians. 
The  conflicting  inscriptions  are  amusing. 

The  Arena,  erected  in  1805  by  Napoleon,  is  one  of  the 
most  commodious  grounds  for  athletic  games  in  Europe. 
Like  the  amphitheatre  at  Verona,  it  is  fashioned  after  the 
Roman  Colosseum,  and  will  readily  seat  twenty  thou- 
sand people. 

The  "Italian  lakes,"  two  of  which  are  largely  Swiss, 
are  the  villa-sites  of  the  Milanese  aristocracy.  Lake 
Como  is  only  an  hour  and  a  quarter  distant,  and  can  be 
reached  almost  any  time  of  the  day.  Therefore,  leaving 
their  hotel  early,  Mrs.  Wentworth  and  her  daughter  ran 
up  to  the  Town  of  Como,  where  they  took  a  steamer  on 
the  lake  to  Bellagio,  a  beautiful  little  hamlet  of  800  in- 
habitants at  the  top  of  a  wooded  promontory  that 
separates  the  Lake  of  Como  from  the  Lake  of  Lecco. 


THE  WONDER  OF  THE  MODERN  WORLD,  THE 
DUOMO  AT  MILAN:  THE  SPLENDID  ARCADE  OF 
VICTOR  EMANUELE  IS  SEEN  ON  THE  LEFT 


298  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

Como  is  identical  in  shape  with  Lake  Itasca,  in  Minne- 
sota. 

During  the  afternoon,  the  ladies  made  the  ascent  of  the 
Monte  San  Primo  (5.550  feet)  with  a  guide,  passing 
a  series  of  villas  unequaled  anywhere  except  along 
the  Posilipo  road  at  Naples  or  at  Paradiso  on  the 
heights  above  Lake  Lugano.  Next  day  they  crossed  the 
lake  to  Menaggio,  where  a  train  was  waiting  to  take 
them  eight  miles  to  Porlezza,  on  the  Lake  of  Lugano, 
crowded  with  scenery  of  grander  but  more  somber  char- 
acter. Taking  passage  down  the  lake,  they  had  luncheon 
on  the  steamer,  and  in  an  hour  entered  Switzerland  at 
Oria.  The  remainder  of  the  short  voyage  was  amid 
heroically  beautiful  scenery.  Lugano  was  reached  at  4 
o'clock ;  a  cable  road  carried  the  ladies  up  the  mountain- 
side a  mile  to  the  St.  Gothard  railway,  whence  an  express 
returned  them  in  three  hours  to  the  Central  Station  in 
Milan. 

"Two  days  of  an  exhilarating  outing,"  said  Mrs.  Went- 
worth. 

"And  another  gonfalon  in  my  collection,  the  Flag  of 
'Peace  and  Good  Will  to  Man,' — the  Flag  of  Switzer- 
land," added  Doris,  with  fervor. 

This  did  not  exhaust  the  possible  excursions  from 
Milan.  While  the  ladies  were  at  the  lakes,  Mr.  Blake 
and  I  went  to  Lodi,  20  miles  down  the  railway  toward 
Bologna.  We  walked  across  the  bridge  that  spans  the 
Adda,  the  scene  of  Napoleon's  personal  bravery  on  May 
loth,  1796.  The  bridge  is  not  the  same,  stone  for  stone, 
but  the  spot  is  identical,  and  the  emotions  aroused  are 
thrilling. 


Home  of  the  Lombard  Kings 


299 


"I  once  had  a  conversation  at  a  public  dinner  with  a 
poet  regarding  the  comparative  merits  of  prose  and 
poetry,"  said  Air.  Blake,  as  we  stood  leaning  against  the 
parapet.  "I  had  ventured  the  rather  broad  and  bold  as- 
sertion that  nothing  had  ever  been   said  in   verse  that 


The  Jolly  Wine-cart  Driver  of  Lombardy 


couldn't  have  been  better  said  in  prose,  when  a  stranger 
at    the    dinner-table   took    issue   and    exclaimed : 

"'What  nonsense!  How  would  you  say,  'On,  Stan- 
ley, on!     Charge,  Chester,  charge?'  " 

"I  was  nearly  'knocked  out,'  but  Abbott's  'Napoleon,' 
my  delight  as  a  boy,  saved  me.  'I  wouldn't  say  it,'  was 
my  retort.  'I'd  work  up  to  a  situation  like  that  of  Na- 
poleon on  the  Bridge  at  Lodi,  and  use  his  words,  'Follow 


300  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

Me !'  Can  you  imagine  a  halt  in  the  face  of  an  enemy 
while  the  commander  orders  a  cavalry  charge  in  poetry?' 
Of  course  he  couldn't ;  and  I  silenced  him,  though  he  was 
not  convinced." 

"You  didn't  beg  the  question,  Mr.  Blake.  You 
changed  the  proposition,"  was  my  comment. 

"I  know  that;  and  my  opponent  doubtless  realized  it 
after  he  reached  home,  but  I  apparently  won.  I  don't 
know  what  Napoleon  said  on  the  spot  where  we  stand, 
but  he  did  the  right  thing.     He  took  this  bridge!" 

A  steam  tram  gave  us  a  charming  ride  to  Pavia,  where 
we  rambled  through  its  beautiful  Cathedral,  containing 
Bonino's  sumptuous  Area  di  Sant'  Agi3stino,  adorned 
with  290  sculptured  figures  of  saints.  We  returned  to 
Milan  in  time  to  attend  a  special  performance  at  La 
Scala,  rarely  opened  now-a-days.  The  old  opera  house 
lost  its  prestige  when  the  monument  of  Leonardo  da 
Vinci  was  erected  in  its  small  plaza. 

"That  is  a  great  statue,"  commented  Blake,  as  we 
strolled  past  it  into  the  Galleria  Vittorio  Emanuele  to 
get  coffee  before  going  to  our  hotel.  "A  pretty  idea, — to 
group  around   old   Leonardo  his   most   famous   pupils." 

Mr.  Blake  said  he  had  business  in  Paris.  He  went  by 
the  St.  Gothard,  across  Switzerland,  taking  the  new  and 
delightful  Lloyd  Express,  that  leaves  Genoa  at  noon, 
reaches  Milan  late  in  the  afternoon,  is  at  Basle  (the  rail- 
road clearing-house,  or  Clapham  Junction  of  Europe)  at 
midnight,  and  Bremen  at  i  o'clock  next  day —  crossing 
the  continent  in  25  hours!  This  "flyer"  makes  direct 
connection  for  Paris  and  Cherbourg,  and  is  the  fastest 
train  from  Northern  Italy. 


STATUE  OF  LEON/^J?DO  DA  VINCI,  WITH 
FOUR  OF  HIS  GREATEST  PUPILS,  FRONT- 
ING LA  SCALA   THEATRE 


A  FRUIT  GROWER  IN  LOMBARDY,  SURROUNDED  BY 
THE  PRODUCTS  OF  A  WONDERFULLY  PRODUCTIVE 
BUT  ARTIFICIAL  AGRICULTURAL  LAND 


LION    OF   ST.    MARK,    DOGE  S    PALACE 


Chapter  Twenty-One 


The  Winged  Lion 


THAXK  heaven,  we  came  to  Venice  across  this 
hand-made  country  of  Northern  Italy  in 
the  open,  and  not  under  ground  like  moles !" 
said  Doris,  remembering  the  smoky  tunnels 
of  the  Riviera  and  of  Liguria,  as  she  stepped  into  a  gon- 
dola at  the  railway  terminus  on  the  Grand  Canal.  Her 
mother  smiled  from  her  seat  in  the  boat :  she  well  knew 
that  the  line  from  Bologna  to  Florence  is  quite  as  sub- 
terranean as  any  Doris  had  encountered. 

Small  steamboats  now  ply  the  entire  length  of  the 
Grand  Canal,  some  going  as  far  as  the  Lido,  or  bathing 
beach,  outside  the  Lagoons;  but  this  watery  thorough- 
fare is  so  tortuous  that  it  doubles  on  itself  twice  in  the 
four  miles  between  the  railway  station  and  the  Piazza 
San  IMarco.  A  passenger  by  gondola  reaches  his  desti- 
nation much  quicker  because  the  boatman  knows  the 
"short  cuts,"  and  takes  advantage  of  them.  With  the 
instinct  of  an  oarsman,  Miss  Wentworth  watched  the 

303 


304  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

man  at  the  back  of  their  gondola,  marveled  at  the  ef- 
fectiveness of  the  short,  awkward  stroke,  and  was  espec- 
ially impressed  with  the  control  the  gondolier  had  over 
his  craft.  She  discovered  later  that  the  Venitian  boat 
is  like  a  flattened  crescent,  and  that  its  contact  with  the 
water  is  comparatively  slight. 

"When  about  to  turn  a  corner,  I  notice  that  the  gon- 
dolier utters  a  low  but  sharp  call,  and  the  right  of  way  is 
yielded  to  him  who  shouts  first,"  said  Doris. 

"They  are  'all  in  the  same  business,'  like  the  donkey- 
drivers  at  Cairo,"  explained  her  mother.  "You  remem- 
ber how  they'd  fight  with  each  other  for  a  customer ;  but 
when  you  had  decided  on  your  mule,  the  other  boys 
would  assist  in  tightening  the  girth  or  lowering  the  stir- 
rups for  their  successful  rival." 

Mrs.  Wentworth  and  her  daughter  were  soon  installed 
in  a  hotel  on  the  Grand  Canal,  facing  the  picturesque 
Gothic  pile  known  as  the  Church  of  Santa  Maria  delle 
Salute. 

"Never  stay  too  long  at  a  time  in  Venice,"  remarked 
Mrs.  Wentworth.  "It  is  much  wiser  to  leave  before  the 
glamour  of  the  life  wears  off.  The  moment  Venice 
ceases  to  be  a  dream  its  charm  is  gone  forever.  You 
then  smell  odors  from  the  canals,  and  miss  the  horses  and 
carriages." 

Venice  has  a  Public  Garden  at  the  extreme  eastern  end 
of  the  city  that  is  almost  as  pretty  as  the  one  at  Milan. 
The  great  place  of  rendezvous  is  the  Piazza  San  Marco. 
Everybody  goes  there  after  sundown,  and  an  excellent 
band  plays  every  night  in  some  part  of  the  square.    Dur- 


THE  BEAUTIFUL  CHURCH  OF  SANTA  MARIA  DELLE 
SALUTE,  AT  THE  HEAD  OF  THE  GRAND  CANAL. 
NEAR  THE  CUSTOM  HOUSE 


3o6  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

ing  the  moonlight  season  it  is  the  gayest  promenade  in 
Europe,  and  is  thronged  until  midnight. 

"If  I  were  asked  what  picture  of  any  in  the  world 
I  most  admired,  my  choice  would  be  Titian's  x'Xssump- 
tion,  that  is  here  in  Venice,"  said  Mrs.  Wentworth,  after 
an  afternoon  at  the  Accademia  di  Belle  Arti.  "I  say 
this  after  seeing  every  gallery  in  Europe,  and  inspecting 
every  picture  of  importance  therein.  The  magnificence 
of  its  coloring  excels  them  all.  In  its  composition,  per- 
spective science  is  applied  equally  to  lines,  figures,  and 
atmosphere.  Radiance  and  gloom  are  distributed  by  the 
highest  intuitive  art.  The  joyful  innocence  of  the  heav- 
enly company  is  beyond  realization  by  our  finite  minds. 
It  is  a  glorious,  a  divine,  picture !" 

"The  Academy  is  very  rich  in  Titian  and  Tintoretto," 
I  added.  "Paolo  Veronese  is  also  seen  at  his  best  in  the 
remarkable  picture, — 'Jesus  at  the  House  of  Simon  the 
Levite.'  Its  composition  is  audacious.  He  seized  upon 
the  Biblical  incident  to  portray  a  group  of  his  contempora- 
ries 'in  the  unfettered  enjoyment  of  existence.'  The  din- 
ner is  served  al  fresco  at  the  top  of  a  grand  stairway. 
All  his  fellow-painters  are  at  the  feast,  seated  at  both 
sides  of  the  board,  by  which  the  artist  avoids  the  table 
d'hote  character  of  Leonardo's  'Last  Supper.'  The  ar- 
chitecture is  Roman,  and  hardly  what  would  be  expected 
in  the  dwelling  of  an  assistant  to  the  Jewish  priesthood. 
However,  that  is  a  slight  matter.  Cagliari  there  paint- 
ed his  own  portrait.  In  a  group,  at  the  right,  is  a  face 
like  Napoleon's ;  the  figure  is  under-size,  and  the  right 
hand  is  thrust  into  the  front  of  the  coat  in  a  manner 


TITIAN'S  'ASSUMPTION  OF  THE  VIRGIN,"  DE- 
CLARED TO  BE  THE  MOST  WONDERFUL  STUDY 
IN   COLOR  IN   THE  WORLD 


3o8  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

affected  by  the  'Little  Corporal.'  The  fact  that  the  pic- 
ture was  painted  in  1573  renders  this  Hkeness  curious." 

The  Ghetto  is  filled  with  bad  odors,  but  it  deserves  a 
forenoon.  When  the  Venetian  noblemen  became  ex- 
travagant, they  borrowed  money  of  the  wealthy  Jews 
until  they  reached  a  point  where  they  couldn't  pay.  Then 
they  repudiated  their  debts  and  treated  their  benefactors 
with  harshness.  The  Jews  were  forced  to  live  by  them- 
selves in  one  section  of  the  city,  and  keepers  were  set  over 
them.  Here  their  descendants  are  to-day.  Restrictive 
laws  have  been  abolished,  but  they  cling  to  their  old 
haunts  as  barnacles  cherish  their  native  rocks. 

"Now  that  we  are  going  to  the  Ghetto,"  said  Doris, 
who  had  been  reading  Mr.  Howells,  *T  want  to  see 
Sior  Antonio  Rioba,  the  practical  joke  of  Venice;  rus- 
tics are  sent  with  packages  to  him  like  American  printer- 
boys  for  type-grinders." 

Sior  Antonio  was  discovered  after  a  deal  of  inquiry 
and  some  guiding.  He  is  a  rough-hewn  statue,  set  in  the 
corner  of  a  grocer's  shop  near  the  Ghetto.  He  had  a 
pack  on  his  back,  and  was  dishonored  by  having  mud 
thrown  in  his  face  while  we  stood  in  his  presence.  It  is 
fortunate  that  he  is  inanimate ;  for  he  leads  a  harsh  life. 

On  the  way  back  to  the  Piazza  San  Marco  afoot,  Doris 
gave  a  beggar  some  money. 

"Why  did  you  do  that,  Doris  ?"  demanded  her  mother. 

"Because,  the  poor  fellow  had  only  one  arm.  How 
can  he  make  his  wants  known?  No  one-armed  Italian 
can  speak  this  language ;  he  needs  both  hands." 

We  never  grew  tired  of  Saint  Mark's,  owing  to  the 
Oriental  magnificence  of  its  decorations.     It  is  a  jewel 


HOUSE  OF  DESDEMONA,  ON  THE  GRAND  CANAL,  RECENT- 
LY OCCUPIED  BY  SIGNORA  DUSE  :  STRAWBERRY-CREAM  IN 
COLOR:  A  FINE  BIT  OF  VENETIAN  ARCHITECTURE 


3IO  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

of  a  church.  Mr.  Ruskin  has  gone  into  the  subject  so 
thoroughly  that  httle  more  can  be  said.  The  charm  of 
the  interior  consists  in  the  noble  perspectives  and  the 
splendor  of  the  decorations.  The  four  bronze  horses 
that  probably  adorned  the  triumphal  arch  of  Nero  at 
Rome  but  are  now  over  the  entrance  to  the  church,  need 
repairing.  Two  of  them  appear  to  have  been  in  the 
bull-ring  and  to  have  been  severely  gored.  Those  horses 
have  been  great  travelers.  Constantine  sent  them  to 
Constantinople,  and  Napoleon  took  them  to  Paris. 

A  climb  to  the  top  of  the  isolated  bell-tower,  by  a 
winding  inclined  plain  of  38  bends,  was  easy. 

"How  small  and  compact  this  city  is !"  exclaimed 
Doris,  when  we  stood  in  the  lofty  gallery. 

"But  notice  how  the  red-tiled  roofs  are  relieved  by  the 
verdure  of  small  gardens  everywhere,"  I  pointed  out. 
"One  wouldn't  think  so  many  green  places  possible." 

"Those  must  be  the  Alps  to  the  northward.  And  I  ac- 
tually believe  I  can  see  land  on  the  other  side  of  the  Adri- 
atic," said  Doris. 

"Yes,  those  are  the  Istrian  Mountains  that  rise  out 
the  sea,"  I  explained.  "That's  a  very  different  country 
from  Italy  over  there." 

"The  sight  of  those  mountains  impresses  me  as  did 
the  wild,  rocky  coast  of  Crete,  where  dwells  a  strange 
people,  indififerent  to  the  rest  of  the  world,"  said  Doris. 

The  ladies  were  voluble  in  their  comments  upon  the 
Palace  of  the  Doges.  Its  curiosities  are :  a  map  that 
Columbus  carried  on  his  first  voyage  (or  one  just  as 
good),  the  collection  of  Cameos,  and  the  dungeons  un- 
der the  palace. 


FACADE  OF  ST.  MARC'S  AND  DOGE'S  PALACE:  WINCED 
LION  ATOP  THE  COLUMN  AT  THE  LANDING:  BRONZE 
HORSES  OVER  CHURCH   DOORWAY 


312  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

"Here  is  a  chance  for  a  discussion  of  the  question  of 
environment,"  said  Mrs.  Wentworth,  as  we  entered  the 
cell  in  which  Lord  Byron  had  passed  a  night  while  com- 
posing his  Venetian  tragedy  under  the  belief  that  ^Nlari- 
ano  Faliero  had  been  immured  there  before  his  beheading. 
But  modem  investigation  has  utterly  disproved  the  pres- 
ence in  this  prison  of  any  distinguished  malefactors :  it 
was  for  thieves  and  murderers.  Now,  the  question  is,  Did 
the  poet  have  true  emotions  when  he  was  at  the  wrong 
place  ? 

The  cell  is  as  Byron  left  it.  He  had  a  platform  of 
heavy  boards  upon  which  to  rest,  but  he  was  without  any 
light,  and  he  made  what  notes  he  wanted  in  the  dark. 
He  must  have  passed  a  gloomy  night. 


THE    CITY  OF    "  ROMOLA  "  ;    TOWER    OF    THE    PALAZZO   VECCHIO,    IN    THE   CENTER 


Chapter  Twenty-two 


Older  than  Rome 


THE  first  thing  to  do  when  you  reach  Florence, 
if  it  be  yet  day,  is  to  take  a  tram-car  to 
the  heights  of  San  Miniato  and  study  "the 
glorious  capital  of  Tuscany,"  spread  at  your 
feet.  It  differs  from  the  view  of  Genoa  that  we  enjoyed 
so  much,  and  the  never-to-be-forgotten  Monaco,  with  its 
blue  sea,  and  its  wealth  of  roses,  and  wilderness  of  rocks. 
Florence  is  in  a  deeper  basin  than  Paris,  and  the  river 
that  divides  it  runs  a  straighter  course.  The  surround- 
ing mountain-sides  are  given  color  by  the  countless  houses 
of  yellow  and  pink  that  peep  from  the  verdure  every- 
where. We  haven't  seen  anything  just  like  that  view. 
Beyond  the  first  range  of  hills  at  Rome,  lies  a  wilderness ; 
the  charming  plain  of  Granada  is  a  tract  of  farming-land ; 
Naples  plunges  down  the  mountain-side  into  the  sea; 
outside  the  walls  of  Milan  are  vineyards  and  swampy 
rice-fields ;  the  only  view  of  Venice  is  from  the  campan- 
ile of  St.  Mark,  at  which  vantage-point  even  the  canals 
—the  glory  of  the  city— disappear. 

313 


314  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

At  Florence,  from  any  fine  prospect,  you  enjoy  a 
farandole  of  Nature.  She  is  aglee,  and  little  imagination 
is  required  to  see  nymphs  dancing  under  the  trees.  From 
San  Miniato  you  can  single  out  the  ancient  terraces  of 
Fiesole,  the  first  Florence,  which  was  old  before  Romulus 
ploughed  the  furrow  in  which  his  walls  were  to  rise. 
When  you  look  up  that  valley  to  the  little  town  at  its 
head,  it  is  easy  to  remember  that  architects  went  from 
there  to  build  Rome,  and  statesmen  to  frame  her  laws. 
Don't  forget,  also,  this  same  Fiesole  and  Rome  were  bit- 
ter rivals  500  years  before  Christ!  Then  come  down  to 
the  thirteenth  century,  and  as  you  single  out  what  is  left 
of  the  Via  dei  Bardi,  the  Ponte  alle  Grazie,  the  Piazza 
Santa  Trinita, — where  still  stands  the  Buondelmonte 
Palace  (whose  owner  began  the  two  hundred  years'  war 
of  the  Guelphs  and  Ghibellines), — the  PiazzasSanta  Feli- 
cita  and  Dei  Mozzi,  and  the  Vias  della  Morte  and  dei 
Cerchi,  imagine  them  peopled  with  the  sturdy  burghers, 
who  knew  how  to  hate  as  Well  as  to  make  love ;  who  were 
rare  artists  in  wood,  bronze,  and  silver,  but  could  handle 
a  sword  with  the  same  ease  as  the  sharp  tools  of  their 
guilds.  Peering  down  into  these  narrow  streets,  the 
fluttering  bits  of  color  you  see  are  like  those  caused  by 
the  passage  of  mounted  cavaliers  en  route  to  a  tourna- 
ment. 

Cast  your  eyes  in  the  direction  of  the  new  center  of 
town,  the  Piazza  Vittorio  Emanuele.  and  you  behold 
acres  of  the  old  palaces  coming  down  to  make  room  for 
the  Florence  of  the  twentieth  century.  This  is  the  good 
work  that  Ouida  so  unjustly  condemns  in  "A  Winter 
City."     The  beautiful  arch  and  fagade  facing  this  square 


FLORENCE  FROM  THE  HEIGHTS  OF  SAN  MINIATO.  SHOWING  ALL 
THE  FAMILIAR  OBJECTS,  INCLUDING  THE  OLD  COVERED  BRIDGE 
CONNECTING  THE   UFIZZI  AND   PITTI   PALACES 


3i6  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

was  dedicated  in  1895,  but  the  broad  streets  that  enter 
the  piazza  are  an  earnest  of  what  will  follow.  The 
square  nearby  with  the  Ufizzi  and  V'ecchio  Palaces  at  one 
corner,  and  that  shiver-provoking  red-copper  tablet  to 
mark  the  place  where  Savanarola  was  burned,  and  the 
recently  scrubbed  Duomo  in  another  open  space  not  far 
away,  have  not  yet  felt  the  throb  of  new  life.  But  it  is 
more  difficult  to  transport  the  mind  into  the  past  in  Flor- 
ence than  at  Rome,  because  so  much  that  is  new  confronts 
you  everywhere.  The  objects  that  most  stimulate  mem- 
ory are  gathered  in  galleries  and  shown  at  a  price.  The 
expense  that  history  has  entailed  upon  the  Florentine 
shopkeepers  must  be  enormous,  and  nobody  can  blame 
them  for  asking  a  living  from  the  visitors  that  come  here 
to  write  diaries  that  are  as  gorged  with  emotions  as 
school  girls'  pen-wipers. 

Every  traveler  in  Italy  should  find  stamped  on  his 
ticket,  in  language  that  he  could  read.  "If  you  cannot 
stop  a  week  in  Florence,  don't  get  ofif  the  train."  Such 
was  the  opinion  of  the  Wentworths. 

"We  made  a  sturdy  effort  to  master  the  twin-galler- 
ies of  the  Pitti  and  Ufizzi  Palaces,"  said  Mrs.Wentworth. 
"Doris  and  I  gave  a  week's  hard  work  to  them  and  the 
monastery  of  San  Marco,  where  dear  Fra  Angelico 
spread  his  heart  upon  the  walls  of  his  own  cell  and  those 
of  his  Dominican  brothers.  I  wondered  why  the  good 
friar,  with  artistic  tastes,  had  always  placed  his  divine 
frescoes  in  the  darkest  corner  of  each  cell ;  but  I  com- 
prehended when  a  guide  brought  a  reflector,  by  means 
of  which  the  light  could  be  thrown  from  the  window 
Upon  the  picture.     Of  course,  this  cost  a  lira,  but  Vv^hat 


TWO  ROMAN  BOYS  SINGING  IN  THE  STREETS  OF 
FLORENCE:  THEIR  CLASSIC  FACES  MARK  THEM 
AS  STRANGERS  IN    TUSCANY 


3i8  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

is  base  money  compared  to  the  pleasure  those  pictures 
gave  me.  They  were  to  me  as  comforting  as  prayer 
itself." 

"If  I  remember  San  Alarco's  cloister,"  I  ventured  to 
say,  "it  was  a  rather  cheerful  place.  I  think  I  could 
have  made  myself  quite  comfortable  there.  The  garden 
upon  which  the  windows  of  the  cells  look  is  pretty  and 
has  a  fine  cedar  in  its  center;  indeed,  the  flowers  out- 
side and  the  pictures  within  quite  suffice  to  please  the 
eye  and  occupy  the  mind.  The  retreat  of  the  Cardinal 
di  Medici  did  not  possess,  to  me,  the  atmosphere  of 
sanctity  that  I  found  in  the  cell  of  poor  Savonarola." 

"His  death  at  the  stake  was  one  of  the  great  crimes 
of  history,  like  the  burning  of  the  little  Maid  of  Or- 
leans," added  Mrs.  Wentworth,  with  a  sigh  that  had 
clung  to  her  throat  ever  since  a  day  in  Rouen,  when  she 
had  visited  the  scene  of  that  shepherdess'  death. 

"At  the  Florentine  hotels,  I  notice  the  head-waiter 
gravely  tastes  the  wine  in  our  presence  before  he  offers 
it  to  us,"  said  Doris. 

"A  remarkable  instance  of  the  survival  of  a  custom 
that  once  possessed  much  significance,"  answered  Mrs. 
Wentworth.  "In  the  days  of  the  Cerchi-and-Donati- 
feud,  and  throughout  the  long  war  of  the  Guelphs  and 
Ghibellines  that  followed,  the  household  butler  always 
took  the  first  drink  out  of  every  flagon  of  wine  served, 
and  then  passed  it  to  his  master.  There  was  a  lot  of 
very  dangerous  grape-juice  in  the  market  at  that  time: 
poisoning  the  wine  was  a  favorite  method  of  getting  rid 
of  enemies.  A  remark  by  the  head  of  the  House  of 
Cerchi  to  his  brother-in-law,  Corso  Donati,  was  the  cause 


WONDERFUL  BYZANTINE  CHURCH  AT  PADUA; 
QUAINTLY  GRACEFUL,  BUT  LACKING  THE  EM- 
BELLISHMENTS  OF  ST.   MARCS  VENICE 


320  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

of  their  feud.  Donati  was  suspected  of  having-  poisoned 
his  wife,  a  sister  of  Vieri  Cerchi.  One  day,  the  latter  was 
supping  with  the  former,  and  the  butler,  according  to 
custom,  tasted  the  wine  before  serving  it.  'You  didn't 
take  that  precaution  when  you  gave  my  sister  her  wine,' 
muttered  Vieri  to  Corso ;  and,  from  that  moment,  mortal 
hatred  began.  Corso  was  like  people  I  know ;  he  could- 
n't take  a  joke." 

"That  may  explain  why  the  waiters  taste  the  wine  be- 
fore serving,''  replied  Doris ;  "but  it  doesn't  account  for 
the  water  that  gets  into  our  bottles  when  we  leave  an 
unfinished  flagon.  If  they  are  sure  our  wine  is  all  right, 
why  do  they  drink  so  much  of  it  between  meals  and  sup- 
ply the  deficiency  with  water?" 

Two  incidents  of  the  trip  from  Venice  to  Florence  are 
not  to  be  overlooked.  One  was  a  half  day's  stop  at  Padua, 
the  other,  the  crossing  of  the  mighty  river  Po.  That 
stream  occupies  so  small  a  place  on  the  map  that  one  ex- 
periences genuine  surprise  at  its  breadth  and  volume.  At 
Padvia  is  the  Byzantine  Church  of  Santa Giustina ;  its  por- 
tal of  black,  red  and  white  marbles, its  square  pilasters, its 
projecting  entablatures,  its  Roman  capitals  and,  over  all, 
its  bulging  Arabic  domes,  give  it  quaintness  and  pom- 
posity. It  is  impossible  to  gaze  at  that  edifice  without 
smiling.  It  is  an  architectural  monstrosity,  but  not  an 
oflfence  to  the  eye.  The  interior  is  aglow  with  color. 
Veronese  left  a  host  of  baby  angels  hovering  round  the 
patron  saint  of  the  church.  Imitators  of  Bernini  did  the 
other  decorations  and  did  them  badly.  We  saw  the  nar- 
row cell  in  which  the  Saint  passed  five  years,  and  from 
which  she  passed  to  heaven  by  a  blessed  martyrdom. 


FAMOUS  STAIRWAY  OF  THE  PODESTA.  EVERY  STEP  HAS 
RUN  WITH  BLOOD;  ITS  TRIUMPHAL  ARCH  IS  ONE  OF  THE 
BEAUTIES  AND   ECCENTRICITIES  OF  ITALIAN  ART 


32  2  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

The  coffin  of  St.  Luke  is  there,  and  it  looked  as  genuine 
as  had  those  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  at  Granada. 

The  horror  of  horrors  of  all  Italy  exists  at  Padua, 
known  as  the  torture-rooms  of  the  demoniacal  monster 
Ecelino,  a  thirteenth  century  ruler  of  Verona,  Vicenza, 
Padua  and  Brescia.  His  cruelties  finally  became  unen- 
durable, and  the  Church  proclaimed  a  crusade  against 
him.  The  peasants  rose  and  a  farmer  killed  him  with  a 
scythe.  In  a  dreary  dungeon  we  saw  an  upright 
box  in  which  was  the  skeleton  of  a  victim.  Two 
apertures  enabled  the  condemned  to  see  a  table,  just  out 
of  reach,  filled  with  food  and  drink — to-day  it  is  stage  food 
and  the  wine  is  colored  water,  but  the  realism  is  intense. 
The  climax  of  shudders  was  reached  when  we  came  to  a 
block  in  the  centre  of  a  square  apartment.  Nailed  to  the 
wood  and  severed  midway  between  the  wrist  and  elbow, 
lay  the  dainty  hand  of  a  woman,  just  as  it  had  been 
chopped  from  the  living  arm !  The  cell  resounded  with 
the  shrieks  of  the  terrified  woman,  and  though  the  hand 
we  saw  was  of  wax,  the  feelings  it  produced  were  the 
most  dreadful  of  the  day.  Where  were  the  Portias  of 
Ecelino's  day?     They  were  needed  in  Padua. 

A  social  organization  exists  in  Florence  composed  of 
remote  descendants  of  the  noblemen  created  by  Charle- 
magne. Its  members  assemble  once  a  year  in  the  Court 
of  the  Palazzo  Pretorio,  attired  in  the  costumes  of  their 
ancestors,  and,  ascending  the  historic  stairway  to  the 
Hall  of  the  Podesta,  they  renew  their  oaths  of  personal 
loyalty.  Our  picture  shows  such  a  group,  gathered  un- 
der the  triumphal  arch,  half-way  up  the  staircase. 

"The  building  now  occupied  by  the  National  Museum 


Older  than  Rome 


323 


is  one  of  the  most  interesting  in  Florentine  history," 
said  :\lrs.  \\  entworth.  "It  was  the  seat  of  the  Podesta, 
an  official  who  embeUishes  all  Florentine  tales  of  the 
time  of  the  Repub- 
lic. He  was  mayor 
and  court  of  last  re- 
sort, always  ap- 
pointed from  a  dis- 
tant part  of  the 
country,  so  that  he 
would  not  have  any 
alliances  to  w  a  r  p 
his  judgment.  He 
lived  in  the  Bar- 
gello,  or  State 
prison,  probably 
for  his  own  safety. 
When  he  presided, 
a  page  in  blue, 
holding  a  drawn 
sword,  stood  Ijc- 
hind  his  chair.  The 
stairway  leading  to 
the  court-room  was 

often  the  scene  of  bloody   contests   between    citizens 
dissatisfied  with  the   decisions." 

And  don't  forget  that  Florence  is  the  city  of  David, 
— ^Michael   Angelo's   inspired   creation. 


Monks 


PICTURESQUE    ISLET   IN    LAKE    MAGGIORE 


Chapter  Tiventy-three 

A  Qiiatrain  of  Destiny 

WE  enjoyed  every  moment  of  our  fifteenth- 
century  existence  at  the  Tuscany  capital. 
When  the  morning  arrived  on  which  we 
were  to  have  returned  to  Genoa,  Mrs. 
Went  worth  informed  me  significantly  of  a  change  in  her 
plans ;  she  and  Doris  had  decided  to  return  to  Milan, 
instead  of  Genoa!  I  was  perplexed,  and  was  about  to 
say  that  I  would  proceed  to  Genoa  and  complete  the  ar- 
rangements for  our  departure  to  New  York,  when  I  was 
invited  to  form  one  of  the  party  to  Milan.  My  face 
evinced  hesitation  and  surprise.  Seeing  this,  Mrs. 
Wentworth  said, 

"I  want  you  to  be  present  at  the  marriage  of  my 
daughter  to  Mr.  Blake,  to-morrow.  It  is  sooner  than 
I  would  have  wished,  but  Vernon  is  impatient.  He  can 
extend  his  vacation  now,  but  would  not  be  able  to  ab- 
sent himself  later  in  the  year." 

324 


A  Quatrain  of  Destiny  325 

"I  am  delighted!"  I  exclaimed.  "Why  should  they 
wait?     Of  course  I'll  go." 

Mrs.  Wentworth  then  told  me  that  a  hurry-order  had 
heen  given  for  the  trousseau  on  the  first  visit  to  Milan. 
The  young  people  were  to  start  immediately  after  the 
ceremony  to  Bellagio,  on  Lake  Como,  where  Mr.  Blake 
had  leased  a  pretty  villa. 

Although  overjoyed,  because  the  event  brought  me 
nearer  to  my  happiness,  I  was  unprepared  for  so  sudden 
a  termination  of  this  love  match. 

"  'Happy  is  the  wooing  that's  not  long  doing,'  "  said 
I,  quoting  an  adage  of  the  North  Country. 

"Marriage  is  her  destiny,"  answered  the  mother,  wdth 
a  sigh.     "I  must  have  lost  her,  ultimately." 

After  leaving  Bologna,  the  trip  in  the  train  de  luxe 
between  Florence  and  the  Lombardy  capital  was  delight- 
ful. Under  one  pretext  or  another,  I  left  the  two  ladies 
together  as  much  as  possible,  seeking  the  smoking-com- 
partment  as  often  as  I  could  summon  sufficient  courage 
to  consume  an  Italian  cigar. 

Miss  Wentworth  was  preoccupied,  and  had  lost  much 
of  her  characteristic  vivacity.  She  was  in  a  more 
thoughtful  mood  than  I  had  yet  observed.  Neither  the 
latest  novels  nor  the  scenery  of  the  garden-part  of  Italy 
interested  her. 

The  Alhambra-bell  had  fulfilled  its  mission.  It  had 
brought  the  maid  a  man  ! 

Our  wanderings  had  not  contained  a  dull  moment,  and 
the  approaching  termination  filled  me  with  an  overpow- 
ering sense  of  regret.  Dr.  Johnson  called  attention  to 
this  phase  of  the  human  mind  in  the  last  of  his  "Idler" 


326  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

papers.  Exactly  as  he  laid  down  his  pen  with  reluctance, 
did  I  contemplate  the  end  of  this  delightful  companion- 
ship. Recalling  our  wanderings  in  Spain,  in  Africa,  in 
Syria,  and  in  Italy,  Mrs.  Wentworth  and  I  agreed  that 
no  place  of  supreme  importance  had  been  overlooked. 

"What  a  common  thing  for  people  who  have  never 
traveled  to  dismiss  so  interesting  a  trip  as  ours  wdth  the 
impudent  comment  that  we  'have  hurried  over  the  ground 
too  rapidly,'  "  said  Mrs.  Wentworth,  thoughtfully,  as  we 
sat  together  in  a  corner  of  the  compartment.  "The  ca- 
pacity to  enjoy  what  we  see  when  traveling  depends  so 
largely  on  mental  preparation  for  the  journey  that  one 
person  is  not  competent  to  judge  whether  or  not  an- 
other has  made  the  most  of  his  or  her  opportunities — has 
seen  much  or  little.  For  example,  the  stranger  who  goes 
to  Rome  unacquainted  with  the  tragedies  and  comedies 
of  its  history,  with  its  art,  literature,  and  religion,  has 
much  to  learn  before  he  can  begin  properly  to  esteem 
what  he  sees.     He  is  unprepared  for  the  journey." 

"Yours  is  a  complete  answer  to  that  class  of  critics 
who  dawdle  away  their  time  in  a  city  like  Paris,  or  who 
go  abroad  to  study  what  they  should  have  learned  during 
their  school-days.  Some  travelers  don't  know  the  dif- 
ference between  the  four  voyages  of  Columbus  and  the 
seven  voyages  of  Sinbad  the  Sailor!  The  person  who 
insists  that  Rome  cannot  be  comprehensively  studied  in 
a  month,  would  probably  need  a  year's  kindergarten  in- 
struction in  the  history  of  the  city,  the  Republic,  and  the 
Empire." 

"My  Biblical  knowledge  was  of  the  greatest  use  to  me 
during  our  stay  in  Palestine,"  added  Mrs.  Wentworth. 


SCENE  IN  THE  "HAND-MADE"  LANDS  OF  NORTHERN 
ITALY,  NEAR  VERONA  ;  BRICK  COLUMNS,  TO  SUPPORT 
A  TRELLIS,  ARE  COVERED  WITH  STUCCO 


328  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

"I   instinctively  sought  places   mentioned   in  the   Book. 
Indeed,  I  almost  felt  that  I'd  been  to  Jerusalem  before." 

"Preparation  for  a  trip  like  ours  should  precede,  not 
accompany,  it,"  was  my  comment. 

"Exactly  what  I  mean.  A  visit  to  Egypt  should  be 
anticipated  by  six  months'  reading  of  Rawlinson,  Erman, 
Eane,  Ebers,  Wiedemann,  Wilkinson,  Muir,  Maspero, 
Curtis,  Edwards,  Stuart,  Wilson,  Kingsley,  and  Milner, 
not  to  omit  'The  Thousand  Nights  and  One  Night.' 
It  is  difficult  to  believe  before  leaving  home  how 
much  intelligent  enjoyment  can  be  compressed  into  a 
four  months'  trip  like  ours.  We  have  traveled  when  we 
pleased ;  have  seen  exactly  what  we  wanted  to  see.  We 
haven't  wasted  our  time,  but  have  combined  pleasure 
with  mental  development.  Another  feature  that  has  ap- 
pealed to  me,  is  the  moderate  expense  at  which  all  this 
enjoyment  has  been  secured." 

"Very  true,"  I  replied.  "A  rough  estimate  of  my 
expenses  is  within  a  thousand  dollars.  Omitting  my 
trip  into  Nubia,  eight  hundred  dollars  would  have  been 
ample.  Tell  me  where,  in  the  whole  range  of  human  ex- 
perience, so  much  intelligent  pleasure  can  be  found  for, 
so  little  money  ?  Of  course.  I  include  in  this  my  pro- 
spective ten  days'  delightful  sea-voyage  from  Genoa  or 
Naples  to  New  York.  Seeking  a  phrase  that  might  best 
describe  our  holiday,  I'd  say,  'The  Trip  of  a  Thousand, 
for  a  Thousand  !'  " 

"That's  a  practical  and  an  inviting  view,"  said  Mrs. 
Wentworth.  "I  couldn't  have  kept  my  house  going  with 
the  amount  that  Doris  and  I  have  spent  since  we  left 
home." 


TYPE  OF  THE  SOUDANESE  WOMAN  SEEN  AT  WADI- 
HALFA:  THE  FACE  WAS  SLASHED  IN  CHILDHOOD,  BY 
THE    MOTHER,   TO   WARD   OFF  THE   EVIL   EYE 


330  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

"You  haven't  been  a  recluse,  by  any  means,"  I  re- 
joined, "but  have  Uved  in  the  sunshine  of  history,  and 
reviewed  the  majesty  of  mankind.  What  a  charming 
fad  that  is  of  Doris'  to  secure  a  small  silk  flag  in  each 
country  she  visits !" 

"The  ensign  of  a  nation  is  the  prettiest  trophy  you  can 
bring  home  from  it,"  replied  Mrs.  Wentworth.  "I  have 
interested  a  shop-keeper  on  the  eastern  side  of  the  Gal- 
leria  Vittorio  Emanuele  at  Milan  in  the  hobby,  and  he 
will  hereafter  keep  in  stock  the  colors  of  all  European 
nations." 

"Let  me  think?  How  many  flags  will  Doris  have 
when  she  gets  home?" 

"Eleven,"  was  the  reply.  "Leaving  New  York  under 
the  black,  white,  and  red  flag  of  Germany,  she  passed 
under  the  white  emblem  of  the  Azores ;  then  the  Union 
Jack  at  Gibraltar,  the  red  and  yellow  standard  of  Spain 
at  Granada,  the  blood-red  symbol  of  Morocco  at  Tangier, 
the  beautiful  green,  white,  and  red  emblem  of  United 
Italy  at  Naples,  Egypt's  magenta  standard,  with  its 
three  crescents,  at  Cairo,  the  red  burgee  crescent  and 
star  of  Turkey  at  Jerusalem,  the  "tricolor"  of  France  at 
Mentone,  the  device  of  the  Prince  of  Monaco  at  Monte 
Carlo,  and  now  the  cross  of  Switzerland." 

"Have  you  noticed  passports  were  not  needed  where 
we  have  traveled?"  I  asked. 

"The  nations  of  the  earth  are  no  longer  suspicious  of 
one  another." 

When  we  stepped  ofif  the  train  at  Milan,  Blake 
was  there  to  meet  us.  We  formed  a  very  jolly  party  at 
the  Cavour  that  afternoon  and  evening. 


BELLACIO.  LAKE  COMO,  WHERE  VERNON  AND  DORIS 
PASSED  THEIR  HONEYMOON  :  A  VISION  LIKE  THOSE 
SEEN  IN  DREAMS:   UNLIKE  ANY  VILLAGE  ON  EARTH 


332  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

Next  day,  at  ten  o'clock,  we  were  driven  to  the  Eng- 
lish Church  of  All  Saints,  on  the  Via  Solferino,  where 
the  simple  but  impressive  service  of  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land was  performed. 

A  dainty  wedding-breakfast  followed,  after  which  we 
drove  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Blake  to  the  train  that  was  to 
take  them  to  Como,  where  a  steam  yacht  that  Blake 
had  hired,  would  carry  them  to  Bellagio. 

Mrs.  Wentworth  and  I  drove  back  to  her  hotel.  A 
feeling  of  embarrassment,  unknown  till  that  moment, 
overcame  us.  We  realized  that  the  situation  had  been 
changed  by  the  departure  of  Doris,  and  that  we  could  no 
longer  be  fellow-travelers.  Mrs.  Wentworth,  with  ad- 
mirable tact,  announced  that  she  would  leave  for  Genoa 
in  the  afternoon. 

The  drive  to  the  railway  station  was  far  too  brief ;  but 
before  it  was  finished  I  had  determined  to  persuade 
Louise  to  marry  me  then  and  there.  I  believe  she  read 
my  mind,  because  she  was  almost  precipitate  in  taking 
her  ticket  and  hurrying  her  luggage  into  the  train.  Af- 
ter seeing  her  comfortably  placed,  I  wired  the  interpreter 
of  her  hotel  to  meet  her. 

The  night  that  followed  was  one  of  the  most  memor- 
able in  my  existence.  Most  of  it  was  spent  afoot,  ramb- 
ling aimlessly  about  the  old  city,  in  solitary  communion 
with  my  thoughts.  Like  a  restless  wraith,  I  hovered 
about  the  crowded  Galleria  Vittorio  Emanuele  and  the 
deserted  piazza  fronting  the  Cathedral.  Before  seeking 
my  hotel,  I  resolved  to  take  the  earliest  morning  train  to 
Genoa. 

Noon  had  struck  when  I  reached  the  Ligurian  capital. 


A  CROUP  OF  FISHER-PEOPLE  AT  BOR- 
DIGHERA:  THIS  RESORT  IS  THE  SCENE 
OF   "DR.   ANTONIO" 


334  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

My  impatience  made  the  journey  tedious.  Seeking  a 
small  hotel  facing  the  station,  I  hurried  a  commission- 
aire with  a  note  to  Mrs.  Wentworth,  inviting  her  to  lunch- 
eon at  the  Righi. 

Choosing  a  carriage  at  the  Columbus  statue,  I  drove 
to  her  hotel  and  thence  to  the  Piazza  Zecca,  where  a 
funicolari  bore  us  to  the  Heights  of  Castellaccio,  1,250 
feet  above  the  sea. 

On  the  broad  veranda  and  across  the  luncheon  table, 
we  decided  our  destiny. 

"I  do  not  have  to  tell  you,  dear,  the  wish  nearest  my 
heart,"  I  began.  "You  can  read  in  my  eyes  the  love  I 
feel  for  you.  We  have  known  each  other  since  childhood 
and  although  I  passed  out  of  your,  life  for  a  while,  the 
last  four  months  have  brought  us  nearer  together  than 
ever  before.  Have  I  not  regained  my  place  in  your 
heart?     Why  shouldn't  we  be  married  at  once?" 

"Don't  you  think  it  w^ould  be  in  better  taste  to  return 
to  America,  where,  if  you  still  feel  inclined,  we  might 
consider  our  marriage?" 

"No,"  I  replied,  with  emphasis.  "We  have  temporized 
long  enough.  I  didn't  find  fault  with  your  maternal 
solicitude  for  your  daughter's  future ;  that  was  natural 
and  proper;  but  she  is  now  a  happy  wife,  and  no  excuse 
exists  for  delaying  our  union." 

"Frankly,  I  have  no  wish  to  delay  it,"  she  replied,  her 
eyes  beaming  with  affection. 

"Glorious!  We  shall  be  married  this  afternoon  at 
the  American  Consulate,"  I  insisted.  "We  can  pass  our 
honeymoon  on  the  Riviera  or  at  sea,  whichever  you  pre- 
fer.    I  will  secure  a  cottage  at  Bar  Htirhor  by  cable,  to- 


LAKE  FRONT,  BELLAGIO,  WITH  THE  ITAL- 
IAN HILLS  IN  THE  BACKGROUND:  LOOKING 
SOUTHWARD  TOWARD   COMO 


^T,6  The  Destiny  of  Doris 

day,  where  Vernon  and  Doris  can  join  us  at  the  end  of 
their  stay  at  Bellagio." 

"I  favor  the  homeward  flight,"  said  she. 

"So  do  I.     'Yerga!'     We  shall  return!" 

"The  beauties  of  the  Mediterranean  and  the  southern 
route  across  the  Atlantic  through  the  Azores  appeal  to 
me,"  she  temporized. 

"Rather  let  us  go  to  our  American  home,  at  once," 
I  persisted.  "We  can  take  the  Lloyd  Express  to-morrow 
noon,  by  way  of  the  St.  Cxothard ;  I'll  call  Vernon  and 
Doris  on  the  telephone  and  ask  them  to  meet  us  at  Como 
station  to  say  an  revoir.  We  shall  be  in  Paris  Saturday 
night,  and  shall  catch  the  Kronprinz  Wilhelm  at  Cher- 
bourg the  next  day." 

"But  what  will  our  children  think?"  she  laughingly 
rejoined. 

"Oh,  hang  the  children !  Happiness  wasn't  made  for 
them  alone.     Take  pity  on  me !" 

"You  poor  neglected  fellow,  I'll  have  to  humor  you." 

And  so  we  were  married 


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